The Architecture of Brotherhood
by Dawn N
Summary: Dean and Sam on a road trip – a real road trip. But things can never be that simple for the Winchester brothers, especially when an old friend of their father's calls them, asking for help. *The story is complete, but will be posted in chapters*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** the characters of "Supernatural" were created by Eric Kripke and are owned by the CW Network and Warner Brothers Studio. No Profit is being made.

 **This novella first appeared in the fanzine,** _ **Route 666**_ **#2, June 2009**

 **Reader notes:** The completely revised version exists only in print. I wasn't able to find the saved final version on my computer from the Editors of _Route 666_ , so apologies for any blatant issues.

I wrote this as my version of a TV tie-in book, when I had finished a "Supernatural" tie-in novel that I did not enjoy, so I started writing this back in late 2008 and finished it in early 2009. The intro lyric blurb was just added and does not exist in the print version.

 ***** This story takes place during Season One sometime after "Faith" *****

I hope you enjoy this novella and I will post it chapter by chapter rather than all at once. I will post a new chapter once or twice a week. Happy reading, I hope!

 **The Architecture of Brotherhood**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

"… _Oh if the sky comes falling down, for you, there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do…_ " ~ lyrics by Avicii, "Hey Brother"

 **Chapter One**

 **Wooded area – Valdosta, Georgia**

Sam could feel his body being jostled, and lifted from under his arms to a sitting position. His head felt like a boulder pulling his neck back at an uncomfortable arch until something firm and soft cupped the back of his head, and eased it against something warm and solid. He heard a voice in the dark recesses of his foggy brain; it was familiar and calling to him, 'Sammy.' It was the voice of his brother Dean and now it was commanding him to do something.

"Open your eyes, Sam," Dean's voice was assertive like their father's was, and he tried to obey. His eyes fluttered as he fought toward awareness. "That's it Sammy, come on."

Sam's brown eyes slipped open slowly, fighting to focus and immediately looked into the concerned hazel-green eyes of his older brother. "You with me Sammy?"

"It's Sam," the younger Winchester tried to sound annoyed at his childhood nickname, but it fell short. He soon realized that he was being held by his brother in a sitting position with his head propped against Dean's chest and the crook of an arm. He started to sit up on his own, and Dean slowed his momentum with a hand.

"Easy Sam," he encouraged. "You hit your head when that skin walker threw you."

"Where is it?" Sam asked looking around wearily.

"Taken care of."

"I missed all the fun," Sam quipped offering a slight smile. "Man, for someone so anti-chick flick moment this is a classic." And, continued to sit up fully without help pulling away from Dean. He glanced back at his brother with a smirk as if to reinforce that his older brother holding him was in deed a bona fide chick flick moment.

"Shut up." Dean pursed his lips in annoyance.

"Jerk." Sam smiled.

"Bitch." Dean replied straight-faced, but with a glint in his eyes.

Dean pulled himself up in order to offer his younger brother a hand up. Sam took the offered hand to stand, and promptly began to sway. "You sure you're okay," Dean asked his voice concerned as he studied his brother while holding his arm to steady him.

"Yeah, head rush. I'm good."

"All right," Dean's voice was hesitant, but he let go of Sam and he didn't sway again. "Let's get out of here."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we take a break for a few days?" Dean looked at his younger brother with surprise. It wasn't exactly something he expected Sam to ask. "I mean, I know you like to look for the next job ASAP, but…" Sam looked at his brother and saw a mix of confusion and concern passing across his face. "Never mind." Sam started past his brother, but Dean reached out and caught the sleeve of his jacket.

"No," Dean began. "Sam, if you need a break just say so." He looked at his little brother for a long moment and saw the dark circles under his eyes and the tight lines around his mouth. He was only twenty-two, but he looked older, and Dean knew it was exhaustion. After all, Sam hardly slept because of nightmares, and the older Winchester knew he had been pushing his brother harder than he should, and now he looked at Sam and saw the damage, really saw it. Sam had left Stanford after Jess's death and started hunting again. It was too much, too fast.

Sam was quiet as he felt himself under the close scrutiny of his brother's gaze.

"Spring Break!" Dean shouted suddenly startling Sam, so much that he actually ducked thinking there was some other spook about to attack.

"What?" Sam snapped as the words sunk in and the state of alarm left his body.

"Spring break, man," Dean said with a wide grin. "I mean it's March right? That's what you college kids do in March. You know P-A-R-R-T-Y," Dean purposefully drew out the R's to accentuate them to his little brother. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Damn Dean, you scared the crap out me. You're a freak you know that?"

"I know you are, but what am I," Dean said with a smirk. Sam just shook his head in frustration.

"Are you sure you're the older one?" His voice annoyed.

"Me, big brother, you little brother. So, you know what that means?"

"No, but I bet you're gonna tell me, huh?"

"I'm your elder so you have to respect me," Dean said with a chuckle.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Bite me." and, started to walk away toward his brother's black '67 Impala.

"You know that attitude is why I always got the extra cookie growing up." Dean quipped after his brother. Sam just flipped him off as he continued to walk away. Dean trotted to catch up to him, and grabbed his arm. "Wait, Sam."

"What?"

"I meant what I said about taking a vacation. We'll take a week off. You know spring break. Sun and fun, that's how it works, right? You can relax and I can do what I do best."

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"Make the ladies tingle in all the right spots."

"Man, that ego's still writing checks it can't cash," Sam, said shaking his head.

"It's not an ego when it's the truth." Dean offered.

"Yeah-yeah. So, I get to relax and you get laid."

Dean looked at his brother. "Now, now Sammy, it's not my fault I was always the ladies man growing up."

 _It was the truth really_ , Sam thought. Dean was always really good with the ladies over the years while they were growing up. He would flash that smile and puff up like a rooster, and it always worked. Sam was always more reserved. But, then he had met Jess, and she had changed his life. When Dean had met her he told her point blank that she was way out his brother's league. And, Sam had to agree, but he'd never say that to Dean. Jess had loved him and he shared a life with her that he was sure he'd never know again. Dean must have noticed the distant look that came over his brother, "Sam?"

"Yeah," the younger Winchester said as his brother's voice drew him away from his thoughts.

"Where'd you go?" Dean knew the answer, but didn't want to lead on.

"Huh? I'm right here. So, where to?"

"You mean you're up for it?"

"Well, the P-A-R-R-T-Y thing wasn't exactly my college experience," Sam replied mimicking his brother from earlier. "But, I'm game. So, where to? Kicking back in Ft. Lauderdale?"

"No, what about Miami? You know South Beach?" Dean saw Sam smile and shake his head in this knowing fashion. "What?" He replied innocently.

"You know what," Sam offered. "Just how many _chica's_ do you plan on having quality time with, eh? Just remember I'm not sticking up for your ass when one of their boyfriend's is coming for your head."

"Have some faith in me, little brother. I can handle my stuff." Sam snorted a laugh at that statement.

"I'm well aware you can handle your stuff you've never stopped telling me since I was fourteen. All I can say is don't go impregnating half of South Beach while were there." Dean was the one to roll his eyes now.

"What do you take me for Sammy? I know the rule after all," he offered with a pause. "Dad filled me in when I was sixteen."

"Oh really," Sam replied sarcastically. "Dad gave you the sex talk?"

"Sure."

"And, what enlightenment did Dad bestow on you?"

"No glove, no love." Dean answered with a big smile. Sam just shook his head and muttered.

"I can't believe I'm apart of this DNA pool. Are you sure I wasn't adopted?" Dean smiled at his younger brother.

"Sorry, Sammy. You know family, can't live with them, and you can't live without them. You gotta love genetics. Come on." Dean motioned to the car. "I figure it'll take us about sixteen hours to get to Miami. We'll drive through the night and be there when the sun's up."

"We're really doing this?"

"Yeah."

"But?"

"But, what?"

"What if Dad text messages with coordinates while we're there, or a job comes up?"

"Now, if you're not the pot calling the kettle black. We are on vacation officially this minute. And, the way I look at it jobs and Dad's occasional text messages will all be waiting for us in a week. Come on." Dean cuffed the back of Sam's head playfully as they turned to walk to the car.

Sam had offered to drive the first part and Dean let him partly because he wanted to make sure his head was okay from earlier and didn't want him to go asleep right away, but also driving seemed to relax his younger brother sometimes and kept his mind from becoming to muddled with things. Dean talked with Sam for a while, and dozed off without even realizing he had. Sam glanced over at the passenger seat after ten minutes of silence had filled the space of the car. The older Winchester was fast asleep leaning against his arm on the window. Sam drove down the highway and started following the exits for I-95 south to Miami. He had stopped for gas and managed somehow not to disturb Dean. He figured his brother must be really tired. Sam felt like he was on autopilot, and just kept driving. The sun was rising and Sam noted that the sky was pink and purple with cobalt blue streaks that branched out like limbs from a tree. The palm trees along the roads edge reminded him of centurions standing guard, and for the first time in months he felt the tension in his shoulders begin to release.

Dean stirred against the window, and then opened his eyes. He looked out the passenger window and then turned his head toward Sam. "You drove too long, Sam. Pull over and we'll switch."

"I'm in a groove."

"Oh, yeah. Well groove on over to that rest area and we'll switch."

"All right." Sam acquiesced. Dean glanced at the gas gauge.

"When did you stop and fill up," he couldn't believe he had slept through it and became irritated with himself.

"A little bit ago. Yeah, miracles do happen I suppose. I couldn't believe you kept sleeping either. Dean glanced at his brother for a long moment. Sometimes it felt like the kid read his mind. "Not a big deal, man. It's not like were in some dangerous hunt or something. Vacation, remember?"

Dean smiled, "Yeah."

Sam pulled the Impala into a parking spot and opened the door. He stretched his back, and then turned to his brother looking at him over the roof of the car. "Catch," he said lightly and tossed the keys to Dean. "I gotta use the restroom before we hit the road again."

"Yeah, I'm feelin' ya on that one." The brothers walked the rest area bathroom.

Dean followed the signs as they reached the outer rim of Miami. The traffic was starting to back up on the 95, and the older Winchester sighed in frustration. He looked over at Sam and he was fast asleep. Sam's bangs covered his forehead and his face was peaceful, and in that moment Dean smiled because he truly saw his little brother not some older looking version with tight lines and dark circles waking from a nightmare. This break would do them both some good.

South Beach – Miami, Florida

"Hey Sammy, we're here," Dean lightly tapped his brother's chest. Sam opened his eyes slowly and the first thing he saw was a group of girls walking down the sidewalk in thong bikinis. And, he wasn't surprised at all to see his brother staring at them with a huge smile.

"Watch the traffic Don Juan it's stopping."

"Yeah," Dean's reply sounded like an after thought and Sam knew his brother was still staring.

"Dean!" Sam raised his voice.

"What!" Dean glared at his younger brother. "Ah, man, you made me miss it," Dean's voice was deflated.

"Miss what?"

"She was going to bend over for that towel."

"You're kidding me, right?" Sam was exasperated. "Snap out of it, you horn dog. You gotta watch the traffic. You just about rear ended that car."

"Sam traffic is bumper to bumper. We're moving at two miles an hour. I can watch the road and the ladies at the same time. It's called multi-tasking. Man, you're like an old lady. Loosen up."

"I am loose," Sam said quietly in a huff. Dean looked at his brother and chuckled.

"Sam, you've never been loose. Never ever."

"Sit and spin."

"There's my Sammy."

"Again, it's Sam."

"Yeah-yeah."

"Hey, man cool car," a voice from outside Dean's rolled down window spoke. There was a young guy on a Ducati motorcycle next to the Impala, and a young girl hanging onto him.

"Thanks," Dean answered and eyed the motorcycle, "nice ride." And, then he thought this might be a good chance to find out where to stay. "Hey, do you know a good place to stay? My brother and I just got in."

"Man, you're kidding right? Everything's full. This place books up month's in advance." The young guy leaned down and glanced further into the car and looked at Sam, and then leaned back up and spoke, "Look my parent's have a summer house down here and they let me have it during spring break. I got plenty of room, plus you'll be able to park this sweet machine off the street and out of the sun."

"Hey, we don't wanna put you out or anything." Dean answered.

"It's not. I'm Josh by the way, and this is my girlfriend Sarah. And, some other friends and family will be getting in over today and tomorrow."

"I'm Dean and this is my little brother Sam." The older Winchester saw Sam bristle at the little brother introduction. Josh noticed, too, and chuckled.

"Hey, Sam, don't sweat it. I've got an older brother too. I'm twenty-four, and he still thinks I'm ten, and introduces me as his little brother." Sam offered a smile at that. "Hey, traffic is finally moving."

"Man, the traffic is a bitch here," Dean grumbled.

"It's Ocean Drive on South Beach kind of goes with the territory." Josh answered. "Hey follow me to my parent's place."

"Lead on."

They drove for a few minutes and finally turned off and Josh pulled up to a guardhouse with a gate. He motioned for Dean to drive forward and the guard handed him a pass to hang on his rear-view mirror to get in and out if he had to leave. "Damn, Dean. His parents are like rich. Look at these houses. This is like lifestyles of the rich and famous." Sam was wide-eyed. He figured they'd be at a condo or something, but not a palatial ocean-view home.

"Boy, did we hit the jackpot or what, Sammy?"

"Sam, Sam, Sam. The name is Sam."

"Don't go and have an aneurysm, man."

The younger Winchester decided to ignore the elder one and continued to look at the houses. Josh turned up a steep driveway lined with palm trees and bright flowers and Dean followed. Sam saw the place first through the landscaping on his side of the car. "Holy crap," he said suddenly. Dean snapped his head toward his brother suddenly on full alert, but he saw no danger.

"Dammit Sam, what's your deal?" His voice snapped as his heart rate slowed. He watched Sam point.

"Look." And, Dean followed Sam's pointing finger through the lush landscaping and his mouth parted slightly in awe.

"So, this is how the other half lives, huh? Sweet."

Josh parked his motorcycle and walked toward a four-car garage. He motioned for Dean to wait a second while a punched a code into a box and a garage door opened. "Go ahead, man. It's all yours."

"Thanks. You sure nobody else is going to need the garage?"

"Nah, no worries. Most of the others will arrive by the airport shuttle."

"Okay."

Josh showed Dean and Sam around the large home. "I think either of these rooms will work. Take your pick."

"We can take that one," Dean offered.

"You guys don't have to share. I meant you both could choose which room you want."

"What about the others coming?"

"Only four more are showing up, and the others have a time share."

"Well, if it's cool then I'll take this one."

"Go for it." Josh said with a smile. "Here Sam follow me down the hall to your room."

Josh showed Sam around the roomy space and showed him the view. "I gotta ask you Josh," Sam began.

"What?"

"I mean you don't even know my brother and me, and to invite us into your home. It's just…" "Well, I figure with Kansas plates you can't be too dangerous. And, I had the space and figured why not. Plus, your brother's car looks great in the garage. Hey, what college do you guys go to anyway?"

A voice cleared at the doorway and both young men turned to see Dean. "Sammy here is a Stanford boy."

"Oh yeah, UCLA," Josh said with a smile looking at Sam. "What about you Dean?"

"Me? College wasn't my deal. I guess you could say I went into the family business with our Dad."

"Oh, yeah, what's that?"

"Investigation."

"Cool, you're like a private detective or something."

"Or something," Dean said with a smirk.

"My Dad's a plastic surgeon not super exciting. So, you like Stanford Sam?" The younger Winchester's eyes shifted suddenly down and then back to Josh.

"I'm taking a break right now."

"Yeah, well, nothin' wrong with that. I took a year off after high school and went back packing and goofed off the entire time."

"Yeah," Sam's voice was soft. "Excuse me I gotta use the bathroom."

"Sure." Josh glanced at Dean apologetically. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry."

"No," Dean began. "Stanford has some bad memories for him." Dean motioned Josh out into the hall with him, so they were out of ear shot from Sam. "Normally, I'd keep this between Sam and me, but he may wake the house up a few times while we're here and I don't want everyone to freak."

Josh's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"He has nightmares, okay? And, sometimes they're really bad."

"Oh."

"Something happened while he was at school, a fire. Sam survived it, but his girlfriend didn't. He has nightmares about her."

"Christ," Josh said in a hushed voice. "I didn't mean to make him think about…"

"It's okay, he knows you had no idea. And, please, don't let him know I told you."

"I won't say a word, man. And, there are only two rooms on this side of the house anyway, nobody will hear if he has another one of those nightmares. So, no worries."

"Thanks, Josh. You really helped us out by giving us a place to stay."

"It's cool, really. Well, I better get downstairs to Sarah before she starts wondering what happened. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge or to go swimming, whatever man."

"Thanks."

Josh left and Dean went back into the room and found the sliding glass door open and saw Sam leaning out on his own private balcony facing the ocean. He walked quietly out there. He noticed the ocean breeze was buffeting Sam's hair and his eyes were closed. "You okay?" Sam opened his eyes and looked toward the direction of his brother's voice.

"Yeah."

Later that night after the others had showed up including extra guests just there to mingle and party Josh had asked Dean and Sam to join them at local club and bar. Sam declined, but encouraged Dean to go. "Sam, I can stay. The house will be empty."

"Now, Dean, who's being the old lady? I'm a big boy despite what you might think. Go do your thing. And, anyway Josh has is letting you use his brother's bike. You can't pass up a sweet ride like that. I'm fine here. Maybe, I'll take a walk on the beach or something. I'm good."

"If you're sure," Dean's voice was hesitant.

"Yeah, go." And, Dean started to turn to go. "Hey?" Dean turned back toward his brother.

"What?"

"Remember no glove, no love."

Dean's face broke into a wide smile. "Got it covered, little brother. Later, then?"

"Yeah, later. Bye."

And, within twenty minutes the house was completely empty except for Sam who wondered around downstairs and then back up to his room where he sat down in a chair on the balcony and watched the surf roll in. The moon cast across the water making the cresting foam sparkle against the dark water. He decided to take a walk on the beach, after all, this portion of the beach was private for the property owner's only, and he wouldn't have to deal with a bunch of revelers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Reader Notes: Disclaimer and story notes appear in Chapter 1. Happy Reading, I hope. ~ Dawn Nyberg**

 **Chapter Two**

There was something soothing about the sound of the ocean, maybe, it was the certainty of it that calmed him. Sam stood and watched the surf and sat down to just decompress, the last few months with his brother had been hectic to say the least.

A sound from behind him caused him to jerk around. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," a young woman said. Sam offered a sheepish grin.

"It's okay."

"Thanks. I didn't think anyone would be out here," she said with a smile.

Sam stood up and brushed the sand off his jeans, "You know it may not be the safest place for a girl at night you know," he offered.

"I can take care of myself," she bristled.

"Sorry," Sam's eyes cast down for a second. "Well, have a good night," and he started to walk away.

"No, I'm sorry. I was being a bitch," she countered. "I'm Allison." She extended her hand.

"I'm Sam," he said as he took her extended hand and shook it gently.

"So, why aren't you soiling your oats in town, eh?" She tried to break the tension. Sam smiled and laughed.

"I'm leaving that to my brother, Dean."

"What a sacrifice for you," she laughed.

"Yeah, what you don't do for family, huh?"

"Seriously," Allison began. "I thought I'd be the only one sulking on the beach tonight."

"I wasn't sulking."

"Agh, yeah," the amused sarcasm rolled off her lips. Sam looked at her for a long moment in the moonlight. She had blonde wavy hair like Jess did, but she wasn't his Jessica. She was gone. But, she had a smile similar to hers and it made his chest ache for what he had and lost.

"So, what are you sulking about," Sam quipped.

"That's personal."

"That works for me."

"Not a talker, huh?" She studied Sam. He was tall, cute with boyish bangs. His eyes, there was something about them. They looked haunted.

"Are you always this difficult?" She laughed.

"According to my family, yeah." She paused and her face took on a sincere look, "you okay?" And, Sam couldn't help, but let a quiet chuckle leave his throat. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, you sound like my big brother. He pulls that like every half hour, 'you okay,' and it drives me nuts."

"Well, if a complete stranger is asking you then maybe your brother has a legitimate reason to be bugging you."

Two yelling voices down the beach grabbed both of their attentions: one female, one male. "I said, no!" the female voice yelled. "I told you not to get smashed. I hate the way you act."

"I said come here!" The male voice demanded.

Sam and Allison looked at each other. "Stay here," Sam, said his voice low and dangerous. "I'll go check it out."

"I'm going with you," she said grabbing Sam's arm.

"It's safer here. Just stay." But, he saw the determined look in her eyes. "Fine," he said annoyed. "Just stay behind me okay?" She nodded.

Sam could see a young college age couple, and he saw the drunken male lunge at the girl, and grab her arm and then push her. And, then begin to stalk over to her. He took off running. He launched himself at the guy and tackled him at the waist and they went down hard into the rolling surf. Allison went to the other girl's side. "You okay," she asked as she watched Sam and the guy go at each other like wild dogs.

"I'm gonna kill you," the college guy spat.

"Trent, no!" the girl yelled.

"You heard me, kill you!" Sam looked almost amused.

"Yeah, keep dreamin' buddy. Just go sleep it off." Trent lunged at Sam, and he side stepped quickly and gave the kid a shove and he went down. "Stop, okay? I don't want to hurt you."

"Up yours! You're dead," and he went for Sam full force, and a punched slipped through one of Sam's blocks snapping his head to the side, and he could feel the blood running out one side of his nose. A switch went off in Sam, and he unleashed.

Allison watched wide-eyed. "Trent's into martial arts," his girlfriend said between moments of yelling at her boyfriend to stop. But, Allison could see that Sam was holding his own in the fight with Trent. His strikes seemed well practiced, and precise.

Sam caught a glimpse of the girl's for a second, and he knew this had to stop. He grabbed Trent, but he was strong and he pulled Sam along with him into the crashing waves. "Damn, dude. You're going to drown us out here. Calm down." Sam coughed as water filled his mouth. And, as they were swept out off the sand toward the ocean with a receding wave they thrashed against one another. Trent brought his elbow back and connected with Sam's temple, "nobody screws with me," he slurred. Sam's vision flashed white and starry. He was in trouble. He could feel that he had gone out just enough that he was occasionally losing contact with the ocean floor, and then he felt Trent push and hold him under. He punched Trent in the groin under the water, and he was released. He surfaced in time to hear Allison screaming his name. It was dark, but the moon was bright enough that she could see Trent was trying to drown Sam. The yelling had been heard from the neighborhood security and they had called the police. Allison saw the police and ran to them.

"He's drowning him. Stop him!" The police officer she had yelled that to cold see out in the distance in the water two young men fighting, but they were out too far to wade in and stop them. He pulled his call radio off his shoulder. "We need an ambulance, and water rescue team," he proceeded to tell his dispatch the location. His partner was busy talking to Allison and the girl that had given her name as Amy. "Hey, Jake, can you see them?"

"Yeah, but they keep disappearing."

"You have to help." Allison yelled.

"We can't go in after them. Help is on the way."

"What help? Water rescue? Sam needs help now!" she paused. "Not when he's drowned!"

The situation had been explained and the police officers knew that Sam was only trying to help stop a situation that was becoming ugly. Sam was struggling with this guy as Trent was becoming a little less combative, as the alcohol started to work on him, and he was nearing passing out. "Look dude, come on!" Sam sputtered in the water. "The police are here," Sam commented as he saw the flashing lights parked above on the road, and he could see a flashlight trying to track them in the water. He swore he could hear a boat or Jet Ski approaching, but the rolling waves kept blocking his view.

Trent seemed to come to his senses for a second and looked at Sam, but it quickly disappeared as he slammed his fist in the side of Sam's face just as a wave engulfed them. Trent was knocked toward the beach, and thrashed his way close enough in that Officer Hasler ran into the water and dragged him out. "I got one." Allison looked at Trent with a stricken face.

"Where's Sam?" Her eyes immediately went to the water searching for any sign of him. "Oh, God, I don't see him!"

The music was pulsing all around Dean and he couldn't help, but smile, no matter what direction he looked there was an attractive female to ogle. "Hi," came from behind Dean and he turned. He wasn't disappointed with the view. An attractive, dark-haired girl in her twenties wearing something close to nothing was smiling at him. "Hi, yourself," Dean answered with a sly smile.

"I'm Sabrina," she spoke up over the music.

"Dean."

They spoke for a while, and she even pulled Dean out onto the dance floor once or twice, although it appeared more like foreplay than dancing. Within the hour he found himself and Sabrina tightly ensconced in a corner of the club having what Dean liked to call, 'quality time.' He was lost in her neck and could feel her hands going up and down his back over his tight white t-shirt. She bent her head up toward Dean's face, and just as he was about to go in for a kiss she smiled and turned her head. "Playing hard to get," he whispered in her ear.

"No, I thought I'd try something," she replied in his ear. She grazed his neck with her mouth, and then kissed his skin. She traveled up to just behind his right ear, and kissed the skin there. Dean's mind was fragmenting at the anticipation. She moved to his ear lobe, and dropped a feather kiss on it.

"God, you're killing me," he groaned. He turned his head toward her bringing up a hand to cup her left cheek, and he pulled her into a kiss. It was deep, and they lost themselves in it. And, for the moment there was no hunting, no demons and things that go bump in the night. Hell, right now there wasn't anything else in the world, but the two of them.

The water rescue arrived on their Jet Ski's while they searched the more shallow to medium depth areas. A search boat had shown up as well to search the deeper areas in the event Sam was carried out farther. Lately, there had been rip tides, and the rescue teams were trying to cover all their bases. They had powerful searchlights scanning the water, and bullhorns calling out Sam's name.

Allison sat crying on the beach. They had taken Trent into custody, and Amy, his girlfriend had left with a police officer to give her formal statement. Now, only Allison remained keeping vigil for Sam. Dean and Sabrina were interrupted by two of her friends.

"Hey, Sabrina, we're heading back to the hotel. You coming?" Dean cast a glance at her.

"It's okay," he offered.

"Can I see you again? We're here a lot, and we're staying at the Colony, if you can't find me here."

"Yeah, okay." Dean decided he would leave; after all, he wasn't stuck. Josh had let him use his brother's motorcycle. He went out front and got on the bike that sat in a paid valet spot that Josh had forked out for, and he saw that his bike was still there and figured they were all still partying inside. He had lost track of them after Sabrina. He started back to house. The bike had a small transponder strip on it that would activate the gate as he pulled up, and he was glad he didn't have to mess with the guardhouse again. Dean rounded the corner, and could see all of the rescue vehicles. He idly, thought some drunken kids must have gotten themselves into some trouble. He also noted that it appeared some of the vehicles were trying to rap things up.

A police officer flagged him down, "Sorry, sir, you're going to have to turn around."

"But, this is where I'm staying," Dean pointed to the transponder that bore a small label listing the housing development."

"Oh, sorry, sure you can go through."

"Hey, what happened?" Dean asked casually.

"Some kid tried to stop a domestic dispute or something on the beach. The fight went out into the water. They think the kid drowned out there. They haven't found him yet. They took the drunk one away."

Something in Dean sank and he felt his stomach clench. "Do you know the name of the kid in the water still?" The officer noticed the concern in Dean's eyes. Dean continued, "My brother stayed home tonight …" Dean's voice drifted off.

"Ah, wait right here a second. What's your brother's name?"

"Sam," Dean replied anxiously. His voice sounded funny to himself.

Dean watched the man walk to his patrol car, and talk on his radio. He walked back, and Dean could see it in his eyes. "Sir, a girl gave a name to the police that matches your brothers." The older Winchester thought his chest would explode. Sam was a good swimmer. These people were nuts. It wasn't his brother. "Sir, go down to the beach, an Officer Hasler is expecting you."

Dean drove the bike to the house and ran down the concrete lighted steps to the beach. Dean ran through the sand, and noticed an officer was waving for him.

"My brother, Sam where is he?"

"We haven't located him yet." Dean looked over to the side and saw a distraught girl standing off to the side.

"Is that the girl that gave you my brother's name?"

"Yes." Dean walked over to her. Allison looked away from the water as she noticed a man walking toward her. She studied his facial features and she saw something of Sam in them. She didn't really know anything about Sam, but she was sure this was the older brother he had mentioned to her.

"Dean?" Her voice was quiet.

"You know me?"

"Sam mentioned he had an older brother named Dean. I'm Allison."

"How do you know my brother?"

"We met a short while ago on the beach down there before this happened." Her eyes drifted back to the water.

"What happened?"

Allison told Dean about what had happened and that Sam was only trying to help the other girl out and protect her from a drunken boyfriend. His jaw clenched and unclenched involuntarily as she retold the entire incident. He turned his attention toward the dark surf as rescue Jet Ski's continued their search grids. His mind racing with thoughts, _Sammy, where the hell are you?_

Sam coughed his way ashore over a mile down the beach. He had just been about to lose consciousness from the final blow Trent had delivered when a wave washed over him bringing him to his senses coughing out seawater. But, he had felt himself being pulled out further by some force, and then he quickly realized it was a rip tide. He fought it for a minute or two and then something his father mentioned once, as almost an after thought entered his mind, swim diagonal to the shoreline until you escape the rip tide. And, he did, and now he was over a mile down the beach, exhausted, but feeling the need to get back to where he was before everyone thought he was dead. He could see searchlights scanning the water in the distance, and walked toward them. He stopped after a few feet to catch his breath. His body was shaking from exhaustion.

He had been in the water for a while. He was glad it was Miami Beach at least the water wasn't that cold to him, but being out in the ocean at night had been unnerving. He hadn't seen anything, but the distant lights from Ocean Drive. All he could hear in his head out there in the water other than his brother's voice calling him a dumb ass for getting himself into this was the theme music to _Jaws_. He took a deep breath and kept walking.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer and reader notes appear at the start of chapter 1.**

 **Chapter Three**

Josh and the others had returned to the house to find out about what had happened with Sam. The young man had gone down to the beach to lend what support he could offer. Dean had thanked him, but he found himself adding distance from everyone on that beach. He stared out at the black pitch and the rolling waves his mind refusing to believe he had lost Sam. A shout from further down the beach could be heard, and then radios were crackling to life, and Dean's eyes darted toward Officer Hasler. He ran toward the man to find out what had happened, and the middle-aged man looked at Dean as he approached, "they found him."

"Is he okay?" And, the other man wasn't even given the chance to answer before Dean shouted, "Answer me, is my brother okay?"

"Yes, he was spotted further down the beach. The paramedics have him up on the street, but they said he's in good shape." Dean took off running for the stairwell up to the street level.

His eyes scanned through the emergency vehicles frantically, and then he saw the familiar brown mop of hair that belonged to his brother leaning forward on the back of an ambulance. Dean heard an EMT talking to his brother, "you'll be fine. Damn lucky though." He saw Sam nod.

"Sammy?" Dean watched his brother look over at him, and before Sam knew what was happening his brother pulled him roughly into a hug. "You okay?" The older sibling pulled back and surveyed his little brother. He was wet and looked exhausted. He also noticed a blue and purple bruise all ready showing on his face.

"Yeah," it was a short response, but the tension in Dean's shoulders relaxed. Sam was okay.

"Sam?" Allison's voice was tentative and scared. He looked toward her.

"Give me a minute Dean."

"Yeah, I'll be over there."

"Allison, you okay?" She laughed at that.

"I'm not the one who nearly drowned in the ocean. Are you okay?"

"I'm good. Sorry about that down there. I got caught in a rip tide."

"I'm just glad you're okay."

Sam talked to her for a few minutes more, and offered to walk her home to make sure she got back okay, but she said she was fine, and he watched her for a moment, and then looked over at his brother. "Hey," Sam's smile was slight, but there, and Dean took comfort in that.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, they gave me a clean bill of health. I'm just so damn tired," Sam offered in a matter of fact tone. Dean grabbed his shoulders and pushed his kid brother in the direction of the house.

"You need some dry cloths and a bed."

"Yes, _Dad_ ," Sam answered with a smile. Dean lightly cuffed his brother in the back of the head.

Sam took a long hot shower, and when he finally came out of his bathroom he saw that Dean had all ready pulled the covers down for him. The older Winchester walked back into the room from Sam's balcony when he heard the bathroom door open. "Go to bed now, Sammy. It's late."

"Geez, when did I get a curfew?" his voice sarcastic.

"Don't be a wise ass, Sam. You could have gotten yourself killed tonight. It was a bonehead move. You gotta use your…" Dean's voice trailed off when he saw the look of amusement on his brother's face. "What?" he snapped.

"Nothin'," Sam offered. "It's just…"

"What?" Dean hissed. "I'm not a mind reader."

"Sorry, I worried you, okay? But, I wasn't going to let that drunken college ass manhandle his girlfriend. I'd do it again." Dean looked at his little brother and his angry features softened. Sam was a good man, and he was proud of him.

"It's okay," Dean hesitantly answered. "Just get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah."

Dean returned to his room, and found himself pacing around for another hour, his body still coursing with adrenalin. Finally, he climbed into his own bed to stare at the ceiling, his mind running through all of the scenarios that could have happened tonight before sleep finally claimed him. The morning light came softly over Dean, and he was pulled from his sleep by the sound of seagulls congregating on the beach below his balcony. He rolled over and looked at the clock and noted it was a little after 9:00 AM. He pulled himself out of bed. He debated on whether to get in the shower or go check on Sam. He opted for the latter. He walked down the hall and noticed Sam's door was still closed. He opened it up quietly, and could see his brother was sound asleep on his side facing him as he entered the room. A smile crept across Dean's face as he realized his brother had actually got a full night's sleep.

He studied Sam's features for a long moment and was glad to see they were relaxed and not in the throe's of a nightmare. He could hear his brother's slow, steady breathing and left the room as quietly as he had entered. Dean showered and went downstairs. Josh greeted him in the kitchen. "Hey, Dean, how's Sam?"

"Still sleeping."

"Yeah, after last night I'd be whipped, too. You know it's a miracle he made it out of the ocean last night." Dean cringed at the thought of what could have been, and Josh noticed Dean tighten his jaw. "I didn't mean…"

"Yeah, I know. No worries, man." Dean assured Josh.

"Hey," Josh said motioning over his shoulder. "Sarah, gets all domestic on trips like this and she makes a great pancake, and there's plenty."

Dean could smell the pancakes, and they looked delicious. "If Sarah doesn't mind," Dean replied in a questioning tone. She looked over at the Dean and smiled.

"Mind? Of course not, I made plenty." She glanced at the pile all ready done and the other six on the griddle, "maybe too much," she offered. "I can make a plate for Sam."

"That'd be great, Sarah. Thanks."

"No problem."

Dean sat in the kitchen and watched the others come and go and listened to the laughing and kidding around. It reminded him of the family life he and Sammy never really had a chance to have after their Mother died. He felt sorry for Sam because he had no memories of their Mom, and it angered him that his brother wouldn't even know what their Mom looked like if it weren't for pictures. Dean glanced at the clock and thought he'd warm up the plate Sarah had made for Sam, and would take it up to him.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, and his body felt stiff and sore. He rolled onto his back with an effort filled sigh. "Oh man," he groaned. "I feel like I was rode hard and put back wet." He pushed himself up into a sitting position and dropped his legs over the side of the bed. He dropped his head down into his hands. He could hear the doorknob turn, and he glanced around. His eyes met those of his brother's.

"Hey, sleepy head," Dean smiled. "How're you feelin'?"

"Sore." Sam glanced at the plate in his brother's right hand. "What's that?"

"Sarah made you up a plate of pancakes. I put butter and syrup on them for you." Sam grinned.

"Breakfast in bed, huh? I'm not dying Dean."

"Shut up," Dean said with a frown.

"Nah, they look good, thanks, man. I'm starving." Sam stood up slowly and Dean noted that Sam seemed really uncomfortable.

"You okay, Sammy?"

"Yeah, just sore, like I said." Sam headed for the door to his balcony and pushed the door open. "I think I'll sit out here and eat them at the table."

"Want some company?"

"Yeah."

Dean and Sam sat together in companionable silence while the youngest Winchester ate. Dean watched the ocean roll in, and noticed how blue the sky was here. "Man, have you noticed how blue the sky is in Miami?" He said shifting his gaze to his brother. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, it's an ultra blue. It sort of looks like it's glowing, it's so blue." Sam caught the odd look his brother gave him. "What?"

"I should just start calling you Hemmingway?" Dean chuckled.

"Hemmingway? What do you know of Hemmingway? Please, your extent of reading doesn't span beyond an issue of _Muscle Cars_ or _Car and Driver_." Sam said with a smile. Dean only laughed. "So," Sam began, "did you get lucky last night?" Dean understood what he was talking about and smiled a mischievous grin.

"Lucky? That's debatable, but I did get a little somethin', somethin.'" Sam just grinned shaking his head and returned to eating his breakfast.

The rest of the day Dean spent with Sam either relaxing at the poolside while everyone was out or taking the motorcycle down Ocean Drive and seeing some more of South Beach. They found a place to park and went on a walk, "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you go do your own thing? Just drop me off at the house. You've got to be bored out of your mind."

"I haven't said anything," Dean looked at his brother.

"I know, but this is your break as much as it is mine."

"Yeah, I know. What? You wanna get rid of me?"

"No, I just figured you wouldn't mind some R&R from everything," he suggested to Dean.

"What's everything? You?" Sam shifted his eyes away from his older brother. "Sammy, look I'm not going to go all chick flick, but you could have died last night, and maybe I want to spend the afternoon with you. But, if you need the space just tell me."

"No," Sam's eyes snapped toward his brother. "It's just you've had to put up with a lot. The nightmare's and stuff. I just thought…" his voice trailed off.

"First, little brother, you're dealing with those damn nightmare's I'm no help at all. If I could I would, ya know that. You make it sound like your some piece of luggage I got stuck carrying around or something, you're not. Okay?"

Sam agreed, but he had his doubts. Sometimes he was sure his older brother resented him for a lot of things, although, he never said a word. Dean had always been there for him growing up, and he figured he always would be, but he wondered if Dean ever wished he hadn't been saddled with a little brother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer and reader notes appear in chapter 1. Happy Reading, I hope. I may post another chapter this weekend. Thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter Four**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

Five days had passed by quickly, and Dean could see the old Sam returning, and part of him wished it could last, but they would be returning to the hunt when they left, and that's just the way it was. Sam had left on a morning run on the beach, and Dean was glad to see his brother do something for himself. He remembered how Sammy loved to run when he was little, and had to laugh at the notion that it was a good thing since the kid had to run a lot on hunts over the years. However, it was usually running from something that would prefer to gut him or drain his soul away. Sam had had a strange childhood, hell, who was he kidding, his little brother never had a real childhood; he was raised to be a warrior. Dean scrubbed at his eyes as he stood out on his balcony. It had been a late night for him. He had hooked up with Sabrina again, and this time they had ended up at her room, and he had rolled back in early this morning. Yet, by the time he got up Sam was all ready out of his room doing his own thing.

Dean's attention on the beach was pulled away by the familiar sound of his cell phone ringing. He picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Dean Winchester?"

Dean didn't recognize the voice. "Yes, who's this?"

"I know your father, John," she began. "And, I called his number, but his voice mail referred me to you. I need your help, Dean."

The oldest Winchester closed his eyes momentarily knowing this quiet time was over, and he'd have to tell Sammy they had to leave. He knew the tone in the woman's voice, and knew she did need help. "Sure."

"Oh, where are my manners? I haven't even told you who I am," she replied. Dean could tell her voice was older, but how old he wasn't sure yet. "My name's Eileen Glendan. I met your father a few years ago on a job ridding a house of two pesky poltergeists. The family he was there to help had also called me to help locate the energies. Your father and I worked well together, and we've kept in touch on and off over the years."

"What's wrong?" Dean felt he needed to get to the point. And, the voice on the other end of the phone emitted a slight amused laugh.

"I'm sorry, Dean," she offered. "I had to laugh because of what my problem is…"

"Which is?"

"First, my old family home is filled with spirits, but that's not the problem. They live here, and I don't mind. But, a recent new guest has moved in, and he is more than I can handle. It's an entity, very dark, very hostile. I've tried to cleanse the house, but all I got for my trouble was tossed against a wall dislocating my shoulder. I'm sixty years old, not over the hill by any means, but I can't keep up with this thing."

"Where are you?" Eileen had given Dean the directions to her family estate located up in southern New Jersey near a place she had called the Pine Barrens. Dean had explained to her that he was traveling with his younger brother, and they were currently in Miami, Florida, so they needed a couple days or so to get to her. She had assured him that she was now staying in one of the outside guest cottages, and had no intention in trying to deal with the entity by herself. Eileen had told Dean she would fill him in on what she felt this entity was when they arrived.

Sam jogged down the length of the private beach, and loved the feel of the early morning breeze. His thoughts were elsewhere though. His mind was replaying the remnants of a dream he had been having the last couple days. He and his brother enter a room with large glass windows and a glass roof. They were hunting something. But, this dream was strange; he was a spectator watching himself and his brother. He saw a darkness materialize and set its sights on his big brother. It wanted Dean dead. Sam watched himself push his brother aside, and saw this thing pass through his body draining his life away. He watches Dean pull him up into his arms and talk to him, but he can't hear what he and his brother are saying to one another. He felt like he was watching a movie, and he couldn't do anything, but watch. And, the dream always left him there. He shook it off, and absently wondered if he would have been able to shake it off, so quickly if Dean had been the one lying on the floor, but he wasn't, so he let it go. He had no plans in telling Dean about this dream.

Sam trotted up the stairs, and noticed, as he began to pass Dean's room that his brother was just closing his cell phone, and he knew instantly. He stopped in the doorway, "Where to?"

Dean's head snapped toward his brother's voice, and his eyes dropped for a second. "Sorry, Sammy," he felt he had to apologize, he had promised his brother a break, and now he was breaking that promise. Sam smiled slightly.

"Where to?" He asked again.

"New Jersey." Dean scanned Sam's face for the disappointment he expected to see etched there, but there was nothing, just acceptance.

"When do we leave?"

"In a few hours. It's a long drive. I'll leave Josh and Sarah a note to say thanks, they're supposed to be gone all afternoon."

"Okay," Sam said nodding. "I need to shower and change," Sam quickly replied, and turned to go toward his room.

"Sammy," Dean's voice was quiet.

"Yeah?"

"I meant what I said, I'm sorry we gotta go."

"It's okay," Sam's voice matter of fact. "It's the way things are. I'll be ready when you want to leave." Sam turned and left toward his own room. Dean lowered his eyes and stared at his hands for a moment. He had always tried to encourage his little brother to accept the way their family had to live, but he had always been secretly happy and proud that he had rebelled against the notion they could never know a normal life, an apple pie existence. He didn't want to hear Sam talk like that. But, he was John Winchester's son, and Sam was beginning to sound a lot like their Dad and Dean had for years. The eldest Winchester child smiled wryly to himself as he knew that despite their father's best attempts to make them hardened warriors during a hunt that ranked hunting as the first priority; Dean knew the truth of what was between he and Sam; they would always be brothers first and hunters second. Dean just wanted to get this job done, and try to make up the lost days to his little brother. _After all, they had time_ , he thought to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: appears in chapter one. As well as intro notes to readers.**

 **To Readers: Thanks for reading and reviewing, it's appreciated! I hope you like the newest chapter.**

 **Chapter Five**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

The drive up the east coast was filled with rolling hills and glimpses of the Atlantic. Traffic wasn't that bad, and Dean thought they were making good time. They had traded off on driving once with each taking a shift, and now was Dean's turn. Sam had begun to shift more often in his seat, and Dean knew he was getting cramped up sitting in the car. Sam was a few inches taller than his older brother, and his long legs had a tendency to never have enough room to comfortably stretch out. "You wanna stop for a break?"

Sam glanced at his brother, "Yeah." Dean arched a single eyebrow at that response. He was actually a bit surprised that his kid brother hadn't invoked his infamous, 'I'm fine,' statement, and decline the offer to stop.

"There's a rest area up ahead a few miles. I saw the sign a mile back." Dean glanced at Sam, and then back to the road. "After we leave the rest area, I'm thinkin' we can get another three-hundred miles in or so, and we'll stop for the night, okay?"

Sam looked over at his brother. "Why stop?"

"Because I'm ready too," Dean commented.

"Then I'll drive," Sam injected.

"No, you'll sleep. And, I plan on getting some quality time examining the insides of my eyelids tonight. I'm not sleeping in the car."

"But, the entity," Sam offered. "What about that lady?"

"What about her Sam?" Dean's tone became a bit caustic. "She's a psychic man, she's not stupid. Anyway, she's not in the house. She's safe. The entity will still be there when we do get there."

"Yeah," Sam's voice was frustrated, and he turned his head away, and started staring at the passing scenery. Dean rolled his eyes, and went back to the road. He saw the rest area sign up ahead, and followed the turnoff.

The rest area was a semi truck haven, but Dean did notice the handful of mini-vans, and station wagons. He watched parents and their children loading and unloading. He noticed his brother walk past the families never even glancing. It was almost like they were vapor to his brother. He remembered a time when Sam would have noticed, and a lost look would cross his face like a gentle breeze and then be gone. But, not this time, and Dean was torn between being thankful his brother was hardening, evolving into the hunter their Dad had tried to instill in both of his son's, and Sam had always resisted. He felt conflicted that he was glad, but was also troubled at the new hardness. Sam was the emotional one, the thinker; it was who he was. Dean had always felt balanced out by his little brother. He felt a pang of loss for the little brother he saw slipping away. He drew in a deep breath, and exhaled it through pursed lips. His passing thought, _I'll fix this_.

Dean found Sam coming out of the restroom rubbing his hands on his jeans, "no paper towels," he offered in explanation. Dean nodded.

"Hey, they got vending machines," Dean motioned his head in the general direction of the machines. "Here," he handed Sam some money. "Get us some snacks for the road. I gotta use the restroom, too."

Sam took the cash, and left without a word. Dean shook his head slightly to himself as he entered the restroom. Dean exited the restroom and turned toward the vending machines, but he didn't see Sam there, so he glanced around a wall, and looked at the Impala, and could see his brother hadn't returned there either. His brow furrowed, and he went searching the rest area for his brother. Something caught his eye out the back near some distant picnic tables. Sam was sitting on top of one of the tables with his back to the rest area watching some Canadian Geese that had landed in a clearing. Dean saw that there were two Cokes and two candy snacks sitting on the table next to his brother's left thigh. A slight smiled cracked across Dean's face when he noticed there was a bag of peanut M&M's on the table, his favorite. Sam knew him pretty well.

"You disappeared on me?" Dean offered as he took a seat on the tabletop next to his brother keeping his tone light.

"Didn't feel like going back to the car yet." They sat in silence for a few minutes until Dean decided to break it.

"What is it?" Sam glanced over at Dean.

"Nothin'"

A look of irritation and amusement passed across Dean's face, "What is it?" His tone brooked no room to drop the subject.

"Don't you ever get tired?" Sam's voice was quiet.

"I get plenty of sleep," Dean quipped trying to lighten the mood. But, the loud sigh that emitted from his brother only proved his attempt at humor fell short.

"Dean," the voice was annoyed, but held this pleading quality. And, Dean knew that Sam was having trouble assimilating this new hardened aspect to his life, and apparently was just as torn, as Dean was over the change.

"I know what you're asking, Sammy," Dean's voice soft. "The hunting, right?"

Sam nodded, but didn't look at his brother. Instead he looked intently at the geese in the distance. "Sure, I guess. We're different Sam," Dean began.

"I know we are Dean, you always say our family is different."

"Yeah, I do, but that's not what I'm trying to say. I mean you and me. We're different Sam. We've always been. I took to hunting, but you never liked this life."

"I did it."

"I know, but if Dad had given you a choice growing up, would you have?"

"No," the answer was quick, and Dean knew it was the absolute truth. "I know we're helping people, saving lives, I get that. But, for this to be my life from here on out," Sam paused taking a breath. "I know I said that I never felt I belonged at Stanford, but it was nice ya know, while it lasted."

"Look Sam when we find Dad again, and that evil bastard that took Mom and Jess, it'll be over."

Sam's head snapped toward his brother. "You'll quit hunting?" Dean shrugged.

"Well, not completely. But, I wouldn't mind staying at a home base for a while and try it out. But, I like hunting and there is a purpose to it, and there will always be something evil to kill. And, you can go back to being Joe College." Sam's face dropped a bit. And Dean noticed. "Hey, Sammy, just because I want to keep hunting doesn't mean you have too. I mean yeah, I don't want you leaving the moment the demon's dead. And, it doesn't mean we're going to go another two years or longer without seeing or talking to each other again. That's not gonna happen ever again."

"You say that now …" Dean cut Sam off.

"I mean it Sammy, never again. Anyway you didn't even bother asking me where my home base would be." Sam looked curiously at his brother. "Hey, Roomy" Dean said with a chuckle.

Sam choked on a laugh. "Roommates, huh?" His voice amused. "What about Dad?"

"I'm sure he'll be around." Dean paused. "Sammy?"

"Yeah," Sam knew by the tone that his brother was about to say something that made him uncomfortable.

"I don't want you to change, okay?"

"You don't!" Sam couldn't mask his surprise. "But, what happened to the whole it'd be better if I were more like you speech you gave me back in St. Louis?"

"I was wrong," Dean offered quietly, his eyes staring straight head avoiding his brother's.

"Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?" Sam's voice held surprise and amusement. A small smile crept across Dean's face.

"Shut up," he said quietly feigning annoyance.

Sam smiled. "Ready to hit the road?" Dean nodded and got up grabbing his Coke and M&M's. They walked back to the Impala, and Sam stretched his back and legs one last time before getting back in, and heard his big brother snicker under his breath.

"What?" Dean shook his head and smiled.

"I guess cars weren't intended for the Jolly Green Giant." Dean had always kidded his little brother about his lanky height.

"Ass." But, Sam couldn't stop the smile that slid across his face. They both got in and Dean turned the ignition on the rumbling V-8 engine. The black Impala moved from its parking spot, and back toward the highway.

Dean saw a sign for a motel, and took the exit. Sam stirred next to him, and pulled his head away from the passenger side window he had fallen asleep against. "Where are we?"

"North Carolina."

Sam noticed they were on an exit, and could see a town ahead. "Motel, huh?"

"Yeah, it's after 7:00, so I thought we'd stop for the night. We actually got in a little over three hundred miles, so we're ahead of schedule." Dean said with a confident smile. He noticed that Sam's face was a little pale, and the dark circles were staring to show again. And, the bruise from his ocean escapade in Miami was barely visible, and mostly hidden by Sam's long bangs. It seemed that just a day and a half on the road had all ready begun to take its toll on his little brother again, and those five days in Miami were disappearing from his face, as if they never happened.

Sam saw the sign for the motel ahead, and a smile crossed his face. "Magnolia Inn," his voice was surprised. "It's not a roaches –r- us motel," Sam's sarcasm couldn't be missed.

"Hey, would you prefer I drive a little further and look for the perfect dive? And, anyway, who says this place doesn't have roaches, we aren't even there yet." Dean commented.

Sam chuckled, "yeah, I'm sure they do, but their roaches will just have manners."

"Geek," Dean said shaking his head.

The motel came into view and much to their surprise it was closer to a bed and breakfast setup. The house was a soft yellow antebellum type home with a clean white front porch that bore four large pillars that supported a second level balcony that spanned the entire front of the house. It sat slightly off the road, and was peppered with flowers in bloom, weeping willow trees, and blooming dogwoods. The driveway was lined with pine trees, and Dean couldn't help, but inhale as the scent of pine entered his open window. A large ornate white wooden sign adorned a corner of the yard, 'Magnolia Inn' and scrawled beneath the name in script lettering, proprietors Glenn and Cheryl Arden. Sam could see the a swinging sky blue porch swing idly swinging on the white porch in the gentle Spring breeze, and he spotted a fountain bird bath combo in the front yard, and shook his head doubtfully, "Uh, Dean, dude, I think this place is gonna be way too expensive. And, they probably require reservations."

"They don't look crowded. And, anyway it's one night." Dean pulled into a parking spot. "Here, you stay with the car, and I'll go see if they have a room."

"Yeah, okay."

Dean rubbed his boots on the welcome mat before he let himself in the front door. A bell chimed as he entered. There was a small reception desk, and a bell. Dean glanced around, and decided to ring it. "Hello?" His voice was tentative and soft. A woman appeared wiping her hands on an apron. She wasn't that old, maybe thirty-six, and pretty. Her face had soft features that reminded him of his Mom. She had kind and gentle eyes. "I'm so sorry I didn't hear you come in. It's dinner for guests between six and eight, so it keeps me busy. I'm Cheryl Arden," she smiled.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Dean smiled. "I know it's late," he began. "I'm Dean, and my younger brother and I are on our way up North, and I was hoping you might have something available for the night." He could see Mrs. Arden look around in search of his brother, and he chuckled. "My brother's still in the car."

"Well, you're in luck we have a couple rooms available. We have one room with a king, and one with two double beds and a private bath. Been on the road long?"

"Yeah, we left from Miami."

"Wow, you have put some miles under your belt. What took you there?" She paused just a second and continued, "Which room would you like?"

"We needed a vacation. And, I figured some time in the sun would be good," Dean answered lightly. Cheryl nodded. "The double would be great," Dean added as an end thought. Cheryl began to get out the registration card. "Let me yell for my brother."

"Sure thing." Dean walked out onto the porch and spotted Sam waiting by the car, and he motioned for him to come, so Sam opened the trunk and grabbed their duffels, locked the car, and started toward the house. "How do you want to pay?" Dean opened his wallet, he knew one of these credit cards used the first name of Dean, and he grabbed it.

"Here, you go," Dean, offered it with a smile.

Cheryl Arden looked at the name on the card, Dean Winters, "okay, Mr. Winter's," she scanned the card and it cleared.

"Call me Dean," he offered.

Cheryl handed back the card, "Okay, Dean, you're all set. You're in the Dogwood room up the stairs and at the end of the hall on the right." She looked up as Sam entered the front door. She could see his pale features, and dark circles.

"This is my brother Sam," Dean introduced.

"Hello, Sam," Cheryl smiled.

"Hi, nice to meet you?" Sam answered softly, his voice weary.

Cheryl smiled, "same to you Sam. There's plenty of time left for dinner. It's included with the stay. Dinner and breakfast." She felt a maternal instinct toward the young man, and wanted to get some food in him.

"Thank you, we'll be back down in a few" Dean answered. She noted how Dean picked up both bags leaving his younger brother with nothing to carry. "Come on, Sammy." Dean gestured toward the stairs. Cheryl watched the brothers climb the stairs to their room, and smiled at the afterthought of the nickname Dean had used. She suspected he had called his brother by that name most of his life, much to his little brother's chagrin she suspected. It reminded her of her older sister's persistent need to call her Cookie, and how much she hated it, but knew she'd never escape the nickname. Her brow creased slightly thinking on Sam's pale features, and idly wondered if the young man were terribly sick, and his big brother was just spending time with him. She didn't want to pry.

Sam stretched on the bed with a loud sigh while he waited to go down to dinner. The bed was soft, and clean. He glanced around the room and saw the quaint furnishings, and felt the homey atmosphere. He could hear the water running behind the bathroom door, and the sound seemed to calm his mind. He hadn't even realized he had drifted off in the few minutes his big brother had been in the bathroom. Dean exited the bathroom, "Okay, you ready…" he stopped mid sentence when he saw Sam laying on his back with his arms folded across himself loosely, his head lulled to one side. Dean walked over to Sam's bed and gently lifted each foot pulling off his brother's gym shoes. He placed them down by the oak bureau. He pulled a throw blanket from the rocking chair in their room, and covered Sam. He turned the lamp off between their beds and left a smaller one on in the corner near the rocking chair. The room was dim, warm and comforting. He could hear Sam's even breathing, and left as quietly as possible, and went down for dinner.

"Dean," Cheryl said as he entered the dining room. "I want you to meet my husband, Glenn." Dean turned and shook hands with the man. He noted the man was about the same height as his Dad, but his light hair, and eyes bore no further resemblance to his and Sam's father.

"Hi, nice to meet you. You have a lovely home," Dean gave the man a firm handshake.

"Thank you. Sorry, to cut and run, but duty calls." And, the man excused himself back to the kitchen. The dining room was nearly empty at this point in the evening except for a young couple in the corner who looked like newlyweds.

"Dean, where's Sam," Cheryl asked her eyes searching the dining room door for his entrance. Her brow furrowed a bit. Dean offered a light smile.

"He fell asleep, and I didn't want to wake him."

"Of course, is he all right?" She couldn't help herself, and had to ask.

"Yeah, just tired." Cheryl nodded, but she was still concerned.

"Well, here I left the food out, so feel free to help yourself. Would you like me to make a plate for Sam, and if he wants to eat later he can get it out of the refrigerator. It's no trouble. I hate seeing him go without dinner."

"Nah, I might take up a biscuit or something up for him to eat. He eats like a bird," Dean's tone was light. "And, anyway, he'll probably be out for the night."

"If you're sure," she replied. "Breakfast is from 7:00 to 9:30 tomorrow morning. Do you boys plan on getting back on the road earlier than that?" Dean shook his head.

"No, we'll be here for breakfast."

"Good."

Dean made himself a plate of food, and sat down to eat. He stared at his feast: two slices of moist meatloaf, mash potatoes, a mini corn on the cob, and a piece of sweet potato pie. And, he poured himself a glass of apple cider. He had considered the coffee, but decided against the caffeine before hitting the sack. He hoped Sam was still asleep, and figured he was since he hadn't shown up in the dining room. He sat and relaxed enjoying his food. Meanwhile, Sam's mind was busy dreaming, but thankfully it wasn't some nightmare that he couldn't escape, it was the same strange dream again where he watches himself push Dean out of the way of a materializing darkness, and sees it pass through him. He watched Dean pull him up into his arms on the ground. And, still he couldn't hear what was being said, and the dream always ended there. He found the whole third person spectator aspect very strange. He turned over in his sleep as the dream faded into the recesses of his mind, and he was pulled down into a deep sleep.

An hour later, Dean let himself back into the room as quietly as possible. He glanced over at Sam's bed and could see his little brother had turned on his side in his sleep, and his back was now facing his brother's bed. The throw blanket had slid off most of Sam, and only covered his legs. Dean let out a soft sigh. "Okay, Sammy, you can't stay in these jeans all night," his voice quiet. He walked over to Sam's side and gently put his hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Sammy," he whispered not wanting to startle him awake. "Hey, Sammy."

"Hmm…" came a muffled reply from the pillow.

"You can't sleep in your clothes all night."

"Okay." But, Sam's only further response was to dig deeper into his pillow.

"Sammy?" When his brother's response was to reach absently in his sleep for a blanket Dean merely smiled. "Fine, have it your way." He pulled the throw blanket back over Sam's shoulders, and pulled the comforter from his own bed covering his brother. "Night, Sammy," he whispered. He walked over to the lamp in the corner clicking it off. The room was illuminated by outside lawn lights, and the moon. Dean got ready for bed and when he exited the bathroom, he saw that Sam was still deep asleep, as he climbed into his own bed exhaling an exhausted sigh, as he muttered, "damn this feels good" and joined his brother in sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: For story disclaimer, please see chapter 1.**

 **Reader Note:** Sorry I didn't post a chapter last weekend, but I thought since ChiCon was going on that no one would be reading anyway, so I waited. I'll post 2 chapters this weekend. So, watch for both 6 and 7. Happy Reading, I hope!

 **Chapter Six**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

The morning sun broke softly through the sheer curtains, and a beam of sunlight rested across one of Sam's arms. He felt compelled to bury himself in the covers, and proceeded to do so. Dean stirred, and stretched absently, lightly knocking his hands against the headboard on his bed. He opened his eyes, and squinted slightly at the bright sunlight that peeked through the curtains. He glanced at the clock beside the bed; it was a little after seven. He sat up and looked in Sam's direction. He stifled a chuckle at the ball of blankets that used to be his brother. All Dean could see was a lump of comforter, and not one inch of Sam poked out. Dean pursed his lips together tightly trying desperately not to laugh out loud. Seeing his brother cocooned in the blankets reminded him of when Sam was a little kid, and slept like that all the time. Dean stood up and made his way over to his duffel bag for clean clothes, and entered the bathroom to take a morning shower. He decided to let Sam sleep a while longer, after all, what point was there to wake him up only to have wait on him while in the shower.

Beneath his covers, wrapped in his blanket cocoon Sam drifted in darkness warm and soothing. In the distant part of his waking mind he could hear the shower running, and the distant sound of birds in the trees outside, but still he remained. He curled in on himself trying to disappear in the folds of the sheets. His mind going to a place where he had that normal life, and demons, ghosts, and the like were merely something he paid money at the movies to watch knowing they weren't real. He pushed his face further into his pillow blotting out images of Jess on the ceiling above his head and her blood dripping on his forehead. He pushed the memory far back into that unbidden place in his head. He embraced the heavy feeling of sleep and let it take him away from the waking world once again. He never heard the shower shut off or his brother come back into the room.

Dean glanced at the clock, 8:10, and then at the motionless lump that was his little brother. He walked over to Sam's bed trying to figure out exactly where his head was located. He shook his own head in amusement. He slowly peeled back a layer of twisted comforter, and saw a bit of his brother's dark mop of a head. "Sammy?" He spoke softly, but his tone couldn't hide the amusement in his voice. "Earth to Sammy. Time to get up, coma boy." Sam stirred, and mumbled something unintelligible into the mass of blankets. "Huh?" Dean said as he tried peeling back more of the upturned blanket layer. Sam tried pulling them back down while mumbling at his brother. Dean reached a hand down into the blankets and touched the brown mass of hair ruffling it, "Come on, Sam. You gotta get up."

"Why?" Sam turned his head up peeling back the covers, his brother's hand still on his head. Dean chuckled.

"Well, we have to eat breakfast, and then we have to hit the road. And, anyway, you slept through dinner, dude. Do I have to drag you out?" Dean bent down and shook the bed roughly.

"I'm up," Sam grumbled, as he continued to peel back the blanket layers, his head finally emerging.

"It lives!" Dean's reply sounded a lot like a half laugh. Sam just glared at him a full second, and then scrubbed his eyes with his palms. Sam's hair was a tangled mess, and suddenly he didn't look twenty-two in that split second, but closer to sixteen when Dean would have to drag him out of bed for school. _Damn, I love this kid_ , Dean thought to himself, although, he'd never say that to Sam, _after all, his little brother knew he loved him, right?_ _Of course, he did,_ he reassured himself.

"I'm heading down to breakfast." Sam just yawned as he sat up pulling himself free from the blankets. And, for the first time looking down noticing he was still fully dressed. "Yeah, you were out cold last night. I tried to get you up," Dean commented.

"I gotta take a shower," Sam commented as he stood up.

"I'll be downstairs. See you in a few."

"Yeah, well, don't eat all the food," Sam mused as he grabbed his duffel to take into the bathroom.

"I'll leave some bread and water."

"Thanks. I feel the love." Dean smiled, and headed toward the door as Sam stumbled into the bathroom to shower.

Dean walked into the dining room, and saw Cheryl immediately. There was a huge buffet style spread, and it looked like she was freshening up a few dishes that had become low while other patrons dined. Dean noted that the young couple from last night was missing; he smiled slyly to himself thinking they must have had a late night. He did see four other tables filled with patrons, and they were all chatting and eating. Mostly, older couples that looked liked traveling retired couples, but one couple looked in their forties, and dressed like yuppies. Dean idly wondered if _yuppie_ was even a word that was still used, he didn't care either way when he really thought about it.

"Good morning, Dean," Cheryl smiled. "Here this table is all set. Where's Sam?"

"He slept in, but he'll be down shortly," Dean assured.

"Good," Cheryl smiled. She was hoping the young man would have more color in his face this morning after a good night's sleep. "It's a buffet, so help yourself. What would you like to drink?"

"A cup of coffee would be great," Dean said smiling.

"Okay, and what would Sam like?"

"Uh, I'd say coffee, but could you just give him some juice?"

"Sure, what kind?"

"OJ," he asked with a raised eyebrow in hopes she had some.

"Coming up." It hadn't slipped Cheryl's attention that Dean had chosen a healthier choice for his younger brother. And, her thoughts entertained the notion again that the younger sibling was sick in some way. But, she let it go.

Sam entered the dining room glancing around until his eyes found his big brother hovering over a plate full of food. Dean noticed something in his peripheral vision and looked up to see his brother standing in the doorway looking at him. He waved him over. "Hey, man, it's a buffet, go fill up." Sam picked up a plate and began putting some items on it, and returned shortly to the table he was sharing with his brother. Dean motioned to the juice, "that's yours. You need some vitamin C." Sam decided to let it go. Dean stopped eating to look at what was on his little brother's plate. "Sam," his tone serious.

"What?" Sam was perplexed at the sudden shift in tone.

"Dammit, Sammy," Dean's voice low, as not to attract the attention of the other diners. However, Cheryl had heard the comment, and tried to ease drop while she cleaned a table off, perhaps she might learn something about the younger brother.

"What?" Sam asked again confused at his brother's serious gaze.

"You have to eat," Dean was quietly emphatic.

"I am," Sam rolled his eyes in a fed up manner. "You, know Dean, I'm an adult. Stop coddling me." Sam was careful to keep his voice down. "I have food."

"A muffin, and what is that?" Dean hissed. "Maybe, a spoon full of scrambled eggs. Sam, I see more plate than I do food. You need to eat."

"Back off, Dean. I got what I wanted."

"Sammy," Dean's voice softened. "I know you're not a kid anymore, but…" he paused. "Can't you just humor me? You slept through dinner last night, and I'm just…" He stopped talking and looked down at his plate. Sam watched and let out a soft frustrated sigh. The youngest Winchester picked up his fork and reached over spearing a sausage patty off his big brother's plate, and put it on his own. "Hey," Dean's head snapped up his face annoyed. Sam chuckled.

"You said I needed more food," Sam commented with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean for you to jack my food, man." Dean grumbled, but his mouth turned up into an amused smile.

"Look, Dean I know you're worried about me, I get that, I do, but you gotta let up a little, okay?" Dean nodded reluctantly. Sam started to stand up.

"Where are you going?"

"I think I saw some biscuits and gravy with my name on them. I'll be back."

"Get some fruit," Dean chuckled as he said it. Sam just swatted his hand at him in amusement. Cheryl smiled internally at the two brothers. She wasn't sure what was wrong with Sam, but she had decided the boy was ill, and perhaps the brothers were spending time with each other, making memories. She chided herself for thinking such an unpleasant idea, but with the little information she had to go on, and the pale countenance of the younger brother, and Dean's apparent protectiveness indicated something was terribly wrong. _Too many sappy novels, I guess, maybe he's fine_ , she thought to herself. But, her intuition was telling her she was right. The brothers would leave today, and she found herself wishing she could know how things turn out for them, but people come and go, and that's just the way it is.

Sam and Dean ate their breakfast, and shared some laughs. "Man, I need some coffee," Sam muttered.

"Eat a banana," Dean quipped. "Better for you."

"Look _Dad_ ," Sam said his tone hovering between mildly amused and irritated. "Read my lips, I need coffee." Dean just glared at him. Sam came back with a travel cup filled with coffee, and to Dean's surprise a banana. He lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "Don't read into it," Sam chirped. "It's for later, a snack for the road." Dean's self-gratified look was driving Sam nuts, _Man, you can be a pain in my ass_ , he thought to himself as he looked at Dean.

Dean loaded the car with their bags, and walked back up to the room where Sam was using the bathroom before hitting the road. "You ready? Come on, it's 'AIS' by 11:00." Dean quipped with humor. He heard Sam laugh from inside the bathroom just as the door opened.

"Man, I haven't heard that in years. I remember Dad used to say that all the time when we were little and loading up for a hunt." Sam had almost forgotten his father's abbreviation that was short for 'ass in seat,' and he was glad the memory hadn't completely slipped away over the years.

Dean laughed lightly. "Yeah, I remember, too. See Sammy, it wasn't all bad," he offered. "Come on, we still have to check out." Dean motioned for them to go and Sam followed. Cheryl and Glenn both said goodbye to the brothers.

"It was great having the two of you. Drive safely." Dean nodded. "If you're ever through this area again, you're always welcome. Here's our card."

"Thanks," both brothers said in unison. Dean glanced at his watch.

"Come on, Sammy, we gotta hit the road." Cheryl watched the two walk to their car, and turned to her husband with a hopeful look.

"You think they'll be okay," her voice hesitant. Glenn walked up behind her and hugged her.

"Cheryl, honey, they've got each other, they're fine."

"I know, but you know me I'm a worrywart," she said smiling.

"I know." And, they walked away from the window, as the black Impala pulled away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Reader Notes:** I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading!

 **Chapter Seven**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

Led Zeppelin blared from the Impala's cassette deck while Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Sam was reading their Dad's journal and looking at various articles their father had collected over the years. Dean caught a smile cross Sam's face as he read a passage. "What is it?"

"Huh?" Sam responded absently.

"What did you just read? You smiled."

"Nothin', just something dad wrote about you and me."

"What?"

"I never knew that after mom died you'd crawl into my crib and sleep with me," Sam said looking at his brother. "I guess dad thought you felt you had to protect me, or something." Dean didn't look at Sam.

"I don't remember doing that." Dean lied. "I was only four when mom died," he answered flatly.

"Yeah," Sam's eyes drifted back to the passage. Dean's mind went back to that time and he remembered the fear that used to hold him prisoner over the safety of his little brother, _hell,_ he thought, _the same fear still filled him even now_. He wasn't sure why he lied to Sam, but it was done. He thought back to the first few weeks that followed the death of their mom, and how he'd try to sleep near Sam's crib, but wouldn't be able to close his eyes afraid Sam wouldn't be there when he woke up. He clearly remembered crawling up into the crib and lying next to his little brother curling protectively around him. A four year old boy embracing an unsaid oath, _protect Sammy, keep him safe_ , and he always would.

Sam closed the journal after a few more pages were flipped through and he reaching over the front seat to the backseat he put the journal inside Dean's open duffel. They had passed the 'welcome to Virginia sign a while ago,' and they had a long day of driving ahead of them. "Do you want to switch? I'll take a shift," Sam offered. Dean shook his head.

"Nah, I've only been driving for four hours," he glanced at his brother. "We need gas," he said glancing at the gas gauge. "You hungry? We could grab a bite while we fill up."

"Yeah, okay."

"Man, listen to that enthusiasm."

"What? Am I supposed to throw confetti or something," Sam's tone was suddenly irritated and it caught Dean off guard. He tossed a confused glance at his younger brother.

"Where the hell did that come from? Check the 'tude," his tone edgy. He could see Sam's jaw tighten slightly, and then release keeping his eyes straight ahead on the road stretching ahead of them. Dean pressed further, "Am I talkin' to myself here?" Sam ignored him. "Hello?"

Sam turned slowly toward his brother, "If you want to stop, stop," his tone angry.

"Damn," Dean blurted out. "What bug crawled up your ass?"

"Bite me."

Dean was dumbfounded into silence at his younger brother. He could usually see a mood shift coming way down the pike, but this one exploded out of nowhere, and he found himself so taken aback by it that the anger in his voice wasn't even all that genuine, it was more reflexive than anything. An uncomfortable silence fell over the occupants of the car. And, without turning his head from the scenery out his window, Sam spoke softly, "sorry." Dean cast a concerned look at his brother.

"It's okay. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam didn't want to tell Dean about the dream. "Just tired, I guess." Sam had been fighting recollections of his strange repetitive dream that he'd been having since Miami, and his frustration was growing. Whenever, he closed his eyes now he would have the same dream. It wasn't a nightmare, after all, Dean was safe, he was the one dying, and he was okay with that, but it still bothered him just the same because he couldn't understand why he was able to watch things unfold in it, a spectator, and participant, two halves separated playing different roles. Dean saw an exit for gas, and food, and turned off.

"Sam?" His tone was serious. "If you're not up for this hunt you need to tell me."

"I'm fine." But, deep down Sam felt this hunt was going to change their lives in some way, he just didn't know how. Dean looked uncertain, but he didn't press. He knew Sam always thought about covering his back during a hunt, and wouldn't enter into one if he thought he couldn't stay sharp for both of them. Dean knew his brother had his back. They had each others; as sure as lungs need oxygen. It was a certainty that they could both always count on.

After another three hours on the road Sam and Dean switched out driving. Dean leaned back and closed his eyes while Sam drove. Sam needed some music, but was tired of his brother's cassettes, so he opted for the radio, and finally found a channel that would work. He smiled as Nora Jones' ' _Don't Know Why_ ,' came on the radio. Jess had loved that song. And. his mind drifted away to another time, a time with Jessica.

" _You're not going to go home for Thanksgiving?" Jess asked as she pushed back Sam's bangs._

" _No, we don't celebrate, you know that, Jess. Anyway, I'm sure my Dad and brother aren't even home. They do their own thing."_

" _I'm sure your Dad didn't mean what he said when you left for college," Jess assured. She hated that Sam obviously missed his family, especially the big brother he had mentioned more than once to her._

" _What? About if I leave to stay gone/" Sam paused. "He meant it."_

" _Sam," Jessica's voice soft. "At least call."_

" _Jess, you know were not like that, so drop it, okay?" His tone hadn't been abrupt, just defeated._

" _I'll stay on campus for the holidays then," Jess smiled._

" _No, you're close with your family. Go have fun. I'll be here when you get home."_

" _You are home to me, Sam. I love you." Sam smiled warmly at her and leaned in for a deep kiss, as he cradled her face softly in his hands. "Come with me then. My parents love you."_

" _I don't know," his voice hesitant. What did he know about family holidays? He had no memories of them, not really. His mother had died when he was still a baby, and the life that could have been, died with her. Sam watched Jess rise from the couch and put on a CD, and as the song began she came back to the couch and curled up against Sam._

" _Please, come," Jess turned smiling at him._

" _Well," he began with a laugh. "I never could say 'no' to you."_

The memory started to fade as the song continued on the radio; he remembered they made love that afternoon as " _Don't Know Why_ " brushed over them from the other room like warm fingers. Sam felt something on his face and absently raised his hand to brush whatever it was away, and was surprised to find his hand wet with silent tears. His chest ached somewhere deep inside, an undefined place that didn't exist in any medical book, it was where he kept his grief for Jess, and the life he had with her. He rubbed at is face roughly to rid his cheeks of any evidence of tears. He would not allow himself the luxury of tears, but especially with Dean sleeping next to him. He thought back on the night of the fire, and Jessica's death, and the fact he had allowed tears then; Dean had seen them, and had only looked at his brother with concern and sadness, but he wouldn't allow them now. His need for revenge fueled a deeper need that over ruled his need to truly grieve. He would allow that some other day, not now. He took in a shaky cleansing breath, and let it out slowly, and with that simple action the slightly opened door to that dark, secret place inside him closed with a thud. And, Sam Winchester looked at the road ahead stretching out ahead an endless black ribbon of asphalt, turned the radio up, and continued to drive.

Sam glanced passively at the 'Welcome to Maryland,' sign as he passed it and then glanced at his brother jealous that he could sleep so well. He shook his head slightly as he remembered vaguely what a good night's sleep was like, but the memory was so distant that it almost seemed like it never existed. Dean stirred and sat up looking around getting his bearings.

"Where we at?" His voice still had a hint of sleepy inflection.

"Maryland."

"Maryland! Damn, how long was I out?"

"A while," Sam offered lightly. Dean glanced over at the gas gauge.

"Why don't we stop pretty soon and fill up. And, I'm so hungry I may start to gnaw on my own hand pretty soon." Dean glanced at his brother with that familiar Dean Winchester sly smile.

"Man, Dean," Sam said taking his eyes off the road for a second to cast an incredulous look at his brother. "I think you're feedin' a tape worm," he said with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean bantered back to his little brother. "I can take the next leg, Sam," Dean offered.

"Nah, I'm good. I'd like to drive." Dean cast his eyes toward his brother and surveyed him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam remained looking ahead, as he took an exit that advertised food and gas. Dean's brow furrowed slightly at the response.

"Did something happen while I was asleep?"

"Huh?" Sam's voice held a confused tone.

"You heard me."

"What could have happened? I've been driving. I'm fine." Sam looked at Dean like he was nuts. The youngest Winchester wasn't stupid he knew Dean could feel some kind of mood shift in him, as if he could tell a trip down Memory Lane had occurred, but he wasn't going to lead on he knew. He didn't want to go back to that memory when he knew how raw he still felt.

"Yeah, sure," Dean's sarcasm couldn't be denied. He knew Sam was lying, but he wasn't going to press it, after all, he has never been the _'let's get in touch with our feelings' kind of brother_ , he thought to himself. He knew if his kid brother really had to talk and get things off his chest he would listen. There wasn't anything he'd probably deny him within reason and, chick flick moments weren't his forte, so he let it go for now.

They filled up first and then drove back up toward their exit onto the highway, and pulled into a diner that resembled something out of the fifties. It has a classic appeal to it, and Dean had to admire that. Sam followed in step behind his brother throwing on a light beige jacket over his t-shirt. The Winchester brothers walked into the diner, and Dean met eyes with the waitress an older looking woman that had the air of 'I've been doing this job since before you were in diapers' around her. Her name on her tag said: Wanda. She had red hair pulled back in an intricate bun, and wispy tendrils cascaded down the sides of her face. "Hello, two?"

Dean nodded.

"A booth in the back on the window okay?" She asked as she grabbed a couple menus.

"Sure." Wanda cast a look at the two young men as they began to follow her to their table.

"Road tripping?" She asked casually.

"We're that obvious," Dean said smiling as he and Sam took seats across from one another in the booth.

"You remind me of my boys when they'd go on road trips. You two brothers?" She saw a resemblance between the two and figured she was right.

"Yeah." Dean replied. Sam just offered a small smile, but said nothing.

"The blue plate special today is meatloaf, which is pretty good," she offered with a warm smile. "I'll be back in a few for your orders."

"Thanks."

Sam flipped randomly through the menu and back to the beginning to start all over again. Dean let out a loud sigh, and lowered his own menu. "Sam, what are you doing?"

"Deciding."

"Deciding, what? This isn't a life altering choice at stake. It's food." Sam's response was to give his brother an annoyed look. "Well, it isn't," Dean, added in response to the look.

After a few more minutes Wanda returned ready to take their order. "So, boys what looks good?" She said smiling. "Well, as my Aunt Rose used to say, 'age before beauty,' so who's ordering first," she laughed lightly. Dean chuckled and a smile crept across his face. "Well, I take both categories, so I guess that'd be me." Wanda laughed and looked at Sam.

"You have your hands full with this one, huh?" Sam cracked a smile and rolled his eyes.

"You have no idea." His sarcastic tone pointed in his big brother's direction couldn't be missed.

Dean and Sam ordered their food, and Sam excused himself to the bathroom. Dean pulled out his cell phone, and pulled up the last number dialed. He connected with the number and waited. It rang twice. "Hello, Dean," the sudden greeting using his name surprised him.

"How'd you know it was me?" He felt like an instant idiot as he remembered, oh yeah, she's psychic. He briefly recalled Missouri Mosley and how when he and Sam had gone to Lawrence she had been able to read their thoughts. The voice of Eileen Glendan on the other end of the phone brought Dean out of his recollections. "Dean?"

"Oh, sorry," Dean replied sheepishly.

"So, you're going to take another day or two to get here," she filled in the silence following Dean's quick reply.

"You know that's not fair," he chuckled. Eileen laughed over the phone.

"Yes, it always drove my children nuts when they were growing up. I always knew what they did and didn't tell me."

"You're still not going in the main house, right?"

"No, and I won't until you and your brother get here, I promise."

"So, it's okay, that we take an extra day or two to get to you," Dean's voice casual.

"Of course," she replied. "You're worried about your brother, aren't you?" Dean knew it was pointless to try and cover, so he admitted she was right.

"He's just been tired, and…" His voice drifted off.

"I understand, dear," her voice soft. "A big brother's duty never really gets a day off. My Martin is the same way with the youngest in our brood, Ian no matter how old they get." Dean caught sight of Sammy making his way back through the diner from the bathroom.

"Thanks," Dean said. "I'll see you in a couple days." And, he closed his phone. Sam slid back into the booth and looked at Dean.

"Who was that?"

"I called Eileen Glendan and said we'd be there in a couple days. She said it was fine."

"A couple days? Dean, we could make it there sooner."

"Yeah, but she's not in immediate danger, so we'll get there in a day or two." Sam wasn't an imbecile and he knew this delay was because of him, and the fact Dean was concerned, but just wasn't going to come out and say it.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam let out a sigh and looked out the window. Dean looked at Sam and studied his pale features trying to not be obvious. He failed, of course. "I see you lookin' at me, Dean." Sam's voice held a hint of irritation. But, the potentially tense moment was broken when Wanda chimed in as she approached with a plate of food in each hand.

Dean had ordered a country-fried steak with mash potato's and corn. His eyes were savoring the food, and he could feel his stomach grumbling. "This looks great." He looked at his brother's plate and couldn't stop from quirking up his nose. He wasn't a big fan of seafood. Sam saw his disgusted look, "What?" he chastised his brother. "You're not the one eating it."

"Whoa, there tiger. Hey, to each his own." He raised a placating hand to his little brother. Wanda sensing the sibling rivalry tried to decompress the situation just a little.

"Well, I can see who is the healthier eater," she looked at Sam and smiled.

"Healthier?" Dean grunted. "It's that California, west coast thing. At least, my food is real."

"California?" Wanda raised an eyebrow. "You boys don't strike me as California boys, I would have guessed mid-west."

"We are," Dean replied. "We grew up in Kansas. He's the corn flake from California." Sam rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

"I was going to college there in Palo Alto."

"Oh, Stanford boy, huh?" A look of surprise crossed Sam's face, and Wanda noticed.

"I had a nephew that attended there. My sister lives outside the city. So, you said 'was going,' did you finish up?" Sam glanced down at his plate for a second and then back up to the woman's face.

"I'm taking a break right now."

"Well, you're young," she offered. "Plenty of time to return when you're ready."

"Yeah." Sam's voice was soft.

"Well, I'm going to let you two eat, and I'll check back for refills in a few, okay?"

Both brothers smiled and nodded.

The weather was pleasant, but cool and was a stark contrast to Miami. Dean ate and tried idle chat with his brother, but after a few grunts, and 'mmm-hmm's' as responses he gave up on the one sided conversation. He watched the small town traffic go by and would occasionally glance at Sam's food. He was happy to see his kid brother actually eat a meal. Dean cleared his throat, "I'll take the next driving leg," he began. "Maybe, put down another four hours or so under our belt and stop around 7:00 or 8:00 tonight, okay?" Sam knew Dean wasn't really asking his opinion or clearing it with him, but he grunted an, 'uh-huh,' while he took a bite of his baked cod filet. There was a long silence as the boys sat and finished their food. Wanda had returned a couple times to top off their drinks. Dean noticed her approach and he looked at her.

"Care for dessert?" Dean's eyes had a glint to them.

"Hmm, I might not be able to pass that up." He glanced at the dessert choices and chose a piece of blueberry pie. Sam shook his head at Wanda.

"No, thanks. Nothing for me."

"Okay." Wanda returned shortly with a piece of fresh blueberry pie, and Dean could feel his mouth water. "Here you go," she placed it down in front of him. "Enjoy. Here's the check for you boys."

"Thanks." The Winchester boys both replied.

Sam's mind was stuck on replay and he couldn't stop the memory loop from running in his head. He kept replaying his dream about the room with glass windows and ceiling, and the fact he dies saving his brother in that room. The third person feeling of observing it all happen had such a surreal feeling to it that he couldn't shake. There had been another small detail emerge in his most recent dream about the door leading into this large room; it was a glass door covered with a decorative wrought iron that looked old. It wasn't anything major, but any new emergent qualities to this recurring dream gave him something else to work with. He had a distinct memory from all of the versions of this dream that there was presence there with him, and it felt like a spirit, but it was only a feeling, and he shook it off. He thought to himself he was probably wrong anyway. There was a voice edging in on his consciousness pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, Earth to Sammy. Come in Sam," Dean waved a hand in front of his brother's distant eyes. And, then he saw the lights go on in his little brother's eyes, and Sam looked at him. "Welcome back," he said with an amused look. "Where'd you go?"

"Huh?" Sam's mind was only just beginning to engage with his older brother.

"You were a thousand miles away dude." Dean's mouth was grinning, but it didn't reach his eyes this time around. He was concerned.

"Yeah, sorry," Sam answered lightly. "Mental vacation, I guess." He noticed that the check was gone, and he glanced back to his brother. "You all ready paid?"

"Yeah, space cadet, you were off on your cosmic voyage while I paid. I had to come back and get you. So, come on, we're outta here."

"Comin'" Sam stood up and followed his brother out of the diner and back to the Impala actually glad it was Dean's turn to drive.


	8. Chapter 8

**Reader Note: disclaimers and story specific info is in chapter 1. Thank you to everyone that is reading, it's appreciated! Some of you have reviewed but aren't signed in when you review, so apologies for not being able thank you for your reviews personally. So, thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story.**

 **Chapter Eight**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

The road seemed to endlessly stretch without too much to look at beyond trees, city exits, and other cars, so Dean depended on his music for entertainment. Sam had been engrossed in checking emails on his phone, and voice messages from friends he still occasionally kept in touch with from Stanford. Dean had had that conversation with his little brother concerning his college buddies, and that he should cut ties with them. Dean saw no point in attachments. He resisted saying anything further to his brother about severing ties. Sam just wouldn't be Sam if he weren't being personable. The kid could charm anyone if he put his mind to it. Dean was convinced it was his younger brother's puppy dog eyes, as he liked to call them.

"Dean?" The sudden voice of his brother startled him from his ruminations on attachments and Sam.

"Yeah?" he glanced over at Sam and he saw something in his eyes. "What is it?"

"I…" Sam felt his throat close in anxiety. He had been kicking around the idea of telling Dean about the dream, and had decided too, but now the moment of truth had arrived, and nothing would come out.

"Sammy?" Dean cast a concerned look at his brother. Something was up and he could tell his brother was about to implode from holding it back.

"When…" Sam paused gathering himself. "When we stop for the night. I need to talk to you about something, okay?"

"Tell me now Sam," Dean encouraged.

"No, not in the car." Sam said turning his eyes back to the windshield. Dean's mind went into overdrive. _'Not in the car,' what the hell did that mean?_ He thought.

"What do you mean 'not in the car' Sammy? You make it sound like one of those you better sit down first kind of talks." Sam smiled slightly, but his eyes betrayed him to his brother, he was scared, and Dean knew it.

"No, it's not like that. I just don't want to do it in the car, okay?" Dean decided to agree otherwise, his brother might very well side step this conversation all-together, and leave him in the dark, again.

"Fine, but once we're checked into the next motel and settled we're doing this, all right?"

Sam nodded and went back to his emails trying to slow his heart that was slamming against his sternum from nerves. The sun had begun to drop behind the trees lining the highway, and Sam knew that Dean would be picking a stopping point soon, and then he'd have to talk to him. He had been mulling over what to say and what not too. He knew that he couldn't tell his brother that he's been seeing himself die to save him almost every night for the past two weeks, so he would have to be selective. Dean Winchester had the keen 'I know you're holding out on me,' sixth sense that he'd inherited from their father. But, Sam was sure he could mask as much as possible, maybe not enough that Dean wouldn't be wondering, but enough that he may call him on it, at least he hoped.

Sam leaned against the coolness of the glass and let a quiet sigh out slowly as he closed his eyes for a moment. Dean glanced at his brother who had been mostly quiet since his announcement that he had something to tell him, and noticed his younger brother for just a moment looked like he carried the burden of the world on his shoulders. Dean looked back at the road before Sam opened his eyes back up, but the youngest Winchester always had a knack of knowing when he was under the penetrating gaze of his older brother. He resisted the urge to give his brother a knowing look when his eyes opened back again just to let him know that he knew, but he didn't.

"There are some signs up ahead for motels, so we're stopping," Dean said flatly. Sam looked at his watch.

"It's only 6:30," he interjected. "I thought we were going to stop later."

"I'm ready now." Dean didn't say anything else, and Sam could see that there was no way he was going to get his brother to keep driving. Dean does what Dean wants. The motel was anything special Sam noted as he stood outside the Impala waiting in the lot for Dean to return with the key. It certainly wasn't the nice bed and breakfast they had stayed at in North Carolina, but at least it wasn't a dive. The motel was all one level, white with lime green trim painted around the windows and Sam noticed the doors were green, as well, but the hue reminded him of the pea soup vomit scene from the _Exorcist_ , and his face contorted slightly in mild disgust. "We're in number seven around the corner," Dean's voice came up from behind Sam. They both climbed back in the car and drove to their room. Dean backed the car into the parking space that was at their door, and they unloaded their stuff from the trunk.

The brothers put their duffels on their beds, and Sam went into the bathroom and closed the door. And, as usual Dean always took the bed closest to the door. It was a habit for him to always put himself between possible danger and his little brother. His mind flashed back to a time he and a sixteen-year-old Sam had to go meet their father in another state, and had stayed a night at a motel. He remembered Sam had been exhausted and had sat on the first bed he saw and was out like a light before Dean could even finish unloading the car. He smiled at the memory, as he recalled that when he had finally finished and closed the door he saw Sam asleep on the bed closest to the door. He had put his things on the mini table in the room, and then turned down the blankets on the other bed, and had actually picked up his little brother and transferred him to the other bed, and had taken off his shoes, and jacket without waking the kid. And, even now that Sam was a grown man Dean still felt it necessary to fill the role as protector. The sound of the bathroom door clicking open snapped Dean out of his brief memory, and he looked at Sam and offered a slight smile. He sat down on the foot of his bed and gauged his younger brother as he moved about the room unpacking some items. "So?"

"So, what?" Sam's voice feigned confusion at his brother.

"Sam," Dean's tone dropped down to a low level. He wasn't about to let his younger brother start to back peddle away from whatever was bothering him. "Don't play stupid, Sammy," Dean's voice was frustrated. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Fine," came out sounding defeated. Sam sat down on the side of his bed and watched his brother shift positions on his own bed to face him. Dean thought for a moment he saw a shudder work it's way over Sam, but it passed in an instant. However, he noticed that his hands were shaking ever so slightly. He furrowed his brow at the sight, "Hey, Sam, take it easy man. What's got you so wound up? Talk to me."

Sam gathered his hands in his lap as an attempt to quell the nervous shaking, but he was only slightly successful. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Um…" Sam's voice sounded foreign even to himself. He could see he had Dean's full attention. "I've been having this recurring dream for a while," his voice tentative.

"Dream, dream? Or one of those freaky 'shining' dreams?" Dean asked with a slight smile trying to lessen his brother's anxiety. It didn't work.

"Dean," Sam's voice was agitated.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Dean placated. "I didn't mean anything by what I said."

"Yeah, right," Sam hissed. He stood up and started pacing. Dean watched his younger sibling pace like a lion in a cage at the zoo. "I just can't talk to you. Everything is a joke to you," he turned his eyes onto his brother and they were filled with frustration and anger, but Dean could see below that surface cover, and he saw pain and fear. But, something else was there and Dean couldn't define it, but it made his chest feel cold, and suddenly he felt like Sam was slipping away from him. It was a strange feeling, and before he could stop himself he stood up as Sam turned away, and grabbed his brother's arm gently.

"Sam," his voice caught in his throat and the youngest Winchester turned to look at his brother. The sound of his big brother's voice surprised him; it sounded afraid. It wasn't an emotion he heard often from his brother over the years. The only times he could recall either hearing or seeing real fear in his brother was if his life was in danger or he was hurt. Dean had always been the consummate big brother; the protector even after Sam reached adulthood. _Old habits die hard_ , he thought for an instant. "Sam, wait," Dean's voice soft.

"What? You got another joke?"

"No," the answer was short, but said with force. Sam could see that Dean hadn't meant for him to be hurt by what he said. He also understood that during stressful moments his brother often fell back on humor even if it were misplaced more times than not. "Please, just talk to me." Dean's eyes showed an honesty and Sam knew his brother was sincere.

"I've been having a dream about a place. I don't know we're there and I know something happens. We're after something. I keep seeing it over and over."

"Are you in danger in the dream?" Dean's eyes were sharp and they studied his brother. Sam shook his head 'no'. _It wasn't a lie not really_ , Sam thought. He knew that Dean was the intended target in his dream, and didn't think he was lying, not really. "Me, then?" Dean almost looked relieved. And, that made Sam angry.

"No, I didn't say that," Sam hissed. "And, what's with the look of relief anyway, man? I mean come on."

"Then what is it, Sam? I mean hunts are a dangerous gig. Look what happened when I electrocuted myself that one time." He actually snickered. "Actually gave myself a heart attack remember?" Sam hated recalling that memory. And, the memories flooded his mind of being told his brother had only a couple weeks to a month to live because his heart was so damaged. But, he had found that faith healer in Nebraska to heal him only it turned out the preacher's wife had used a binding spell on a Reaper to trade one life for another. Sam remembered how upset Dean had been when they discovered that another guy his age had dropped dead of a heart attack at the same time he had been healed. They had broke the binding spell and released the Reaper, but Sam knew that Dean was still bothered by the fact another person died to save him. But, in retrospect even if he had known about the Reaper he would have still taken Dean to be healed. He couldn't watch his big brother die. "Sammy?" His brother's voice pulled him from the unpleasant memory.

"Huh? Yeah," he answered distractedly. "Yeah, I remember that. You don't have to remind me. And, don't start with that whole drawing the short straw crap again," Sam spat. "If that had happened to me you wouldn't have tolerated any of the crap you said coming out of my mouth, would you?"

"That's different," Dean's said his eyes flashed a hint of anger.

"Oh, Really? How's that work?" Sam decided to push his brother's buttons.

"Because," Dean answered as he turned away from his brother and started to pace near the window.

"Because isn't an answer Dean. You make it sound like my life is worth more than yours," Sam's voice was forceful. "And, it's not."

Dean wouldn't look at his little brother. "You don't understand."

"I understand more than you think. Look you're my brother too, and whether you live or die does happen to matter to me. I was so pissed when you were ready to give up and die. I'm still pissed. You were so ready to leave me, but you spend all your time trying to make sure I'm not gonna get hurt. You make no sense, man. None at all."

"I," Dean began, he didn't know the words, and he fell silent.

"What Dean?"

"I thought making light of it would make it easier for you."

"Easier!" Sam's tone was exasperated. "You've got to be kidding me. You were dying Dean," Sam's eyes were wild. "You dead as in dead and buried. Gone. And, you were going to let it happen. I told you we still had options and you remember what you said to me? Huh?"

Dean stared at Sam now looking at his wild, wide-eyed little brother. "You said, 'yeah, what options, burial or cremation.' Does that refresh your memory? Does it!" He yelled.

"Easy Sam," Dean's voice tried to sound calm. "Don't go a blow a blood vessel man. That was months ago, chill out."

"Screw you, Dean. Hey, maybe I can have the short straw next time, huh? That'd be fair, huh?" Now, Dean's eyes were on fire, and he stalked toward his younger sibling, and pushed him back up against a wall. "I don't want to hear you talk like that, you got it?"

"Why not? It's a dangerous gig, right?" There was a thick silence between the two brothers and Dean still held Sam pinned against the wall. He dropped his eyes from Sam's intense gaze, but maintained his grip on the youth. "Dean, man, I just don't want you to think that I'm more important because I'm not. I get it that the idea of me buying it on a hunt isn't on your something to experience list, but you got to understand that you dying in a hunt isn't on my list either. I've been as close to that as I wanna get. Now can you ease up Rambo, you're killing my chest," Sam looked at his brother's forearm pushing against his sternum. Dean released the pressure against his little brother. His eyes met Sam's once again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to push so hard," his voice tentative.

"No problem."

Sam hadn't expected the conversation he feared to have blow up into this major deal, and somewhere amid this ruckus the whole point of discussing the dream was lost, and Sam was actually happy. And, his luck held out when Dean didn't go back to what they were originally talking about, but instead called dibs on the shower stating quite matter of fact that Sam was a hot water hog, so he was going first. Sam smiled. After Dean went into the bathroom and closed the door Sam sprawled out on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He wasn't sure when or if that dream would come true, but he felt both happy and sad about the idea of it being true. Happy that for once in his life he could protect his brother from injury or death, and sad that he knew that Dean would carry guilt over his death whether it was his fault or not. Granted he had been able to save Dean from dying with the faith healer, but that wasn't really protecting him. He owed Dean so much more. He'd try to find a solution to help ease Dean's guilt, but he wasn't sure what. He closed his eyes and listened to the shower water running and decided he wasn't going to worry about it anymore. He would idly wonder sometimes that despite his big brother's efforts to keep him safe, that in someway he wasn't really just some burden his older brother got saddled with when he was little. And, out of obligation felt compelled to look out for him. Of course, Dean had never said he felt held down by him, but Sam felt he was a weight on his brother's neck regardless. _Oh hell, you gotta shut your mind off Winchester. You think too damn much_ , Sam thought to himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Reader Note: Happy reading, I hope. Thanks for sticking with the story, so far, it's appreciated.**

 **Chapter Nine**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

Sam woke up early as usual and slid out of his bed quietly to avoid waking his brother. Dean was still out like a light, and didn't even stir. Sam decided he'd walk across the street from the motel to the local donut shop. He could smell the fresh donuts cooking as the scent reached his nose in the crisp morning air. He looked up at the sky and could see the sunrise slowly lighting its way above his head as it cast various hues of pink, gold, purple, and blue across the early morning sky. There was light breeze that washed over the skin of his face and he closed his eyes for a moment feeling the whisper soft touch of air that reminded him briefly of the way Jessica would touch him. She hadn't been gone a year yet, but some how it felt like a lifetime ago. A truck honked at a dog crossing the street further down and it snapped him from his brief memory, and he continued onto the donut shop. He pushed the door open causing a chiming noise that brought out an older gentleman that looked in his fifties or so. "Mornin', what can I get you?" He offered Sam a smile with the greeting.

"Good morning," Sam said as he eyed the choice of fresh donuts. "Um not sure," his voice hedged as he looked at the assortment.

"Al?" a female voice called from the back.

"Yeah, honey? Give me a minute we have a customer. My wife," the man explained. Sam just nodded.

"You don't have to wait on me," Sam offered. "I'm still not sure. Everything smells so good."

The woman made an appearance with a tray of fresh glazed donuts, and slid them into an empty spot in one of the display cases. "Aren't you the early bird," she said smiling at Sam. "You're our first customer this morning."

"Yeah, my early mornings drive my brother nuts," Sam replied.

"Well, take your time. Al, leave the boy be, and come help me with the other trays."

Sam walked around to each case and everything looked so good. He glanced at the name of the store that spun around on a mini donut by the cash register that matched the larger version out front. It was a cake donut with pink icing with the name spelled in sprinkles, 'Al's Donuts'. And, Sam figured out that this was a true blue mom and pop store.

Thirty minutes later, after getting cornered by Al's wife Carol and pulled into a long conversation about nothing too monumental the youngest Winchester finally left. Sam made his way back across the street with a box of four donuts and two black coffees. He glanced at his watch before putting the key in the doorknob. It was 6:45 AM, and he hoped that Dean was actually still asleep. After all, he hadn't left a note because he figured he would have been back within minutes. But, he hadn't factored in Carol Jules who could speak a mile a minute and make a five-minute story last for thirty minutes. He put the key into the door and opened it slowly, and released a quiet sigh of relief when he saw Dean was still fast asleep.

Sam was just putting the donuts and coffee down when he heard his brother stir and then the sheets thrown away abruptly. He turned to see his brother tense with his hand under his pillow, and he was sure that it was placed on the hunting knife he kept under it, as a measure of 'precaution', as Dean liked to call it. "Hey, man, it's just me," Sam assured. He saw the tension leave his brothers body, and was replaced by annoyance.

"What time is it?" he grumbled as he scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"Almost seven," he said lightly. "I got us some fresh coffee and donuts from across the street." Sam walked over and handed Dean his coffee. The eldest Winchester child popped the top off and smelled the brew.

"Mmm, nectar of the Gods," he said with a slight smile before he took a drink. "Now, that's coffee." He looked over the rim of his Styrofoam cup, and gauged his brother's appearance. "Did you get some sleep?"

"Yeah, I did okay," Sam answered while he opened up the box of donuts, and snagged one. "You should have one of these, man. They're still warm." Dean got up and walked over to the small table in their room and sat down across from his younger brother. He looked in the box and grabbed one. They sat in companionable silence for a short while.

"Well," Dean broke the silence. "I guess we better finish getting packed and stuff. We'll stop again before we hit New Jersey."

"Dean, come on dude, we can get through Pennsylvania today, and make it to Jersey," Sam complained. "Look, I know you're dragging this out because you think I'm tired. I'm okay. Have I ever dropped the ball on a hunt? Huh?"

Dean shook his head, "No, but…"

"No, but, Dean," Sam snapped. "I don't need babied, all right?"

"I'm not doing that Sammy, it's just…"

"See," Sam's voice had venom to it. "You're doing it again. I'm twenty-two, not ten."

"Where's this coming from, Sam?" Dean was having trouble adjusting to the extra wider than usual mood swings of his little brother. He kept his tone even and tolerant.

"Don't," Sam barked.

"Don't what?" Dean's face a picture of unawareness.

"Placate me."

"Yeah, okay Webster," Dean's voice amused. Sam stopped and looked at him quizzically. And, then it dawned on him that his brother was ribbing him about his vocabulary usage, and was calling him a dictionary. The frustration left him quickly like a deflating balloon. He smirked at his big brother.

"That's college boy to you," Sam volleyed back to Dean. Both brothers smiled gently at the other.

"Not Geek boy? I'm fond of that one."

"Jerk." Sam's retort was light.

"Bitch."

Dean had let Sam drive this first leg. The kid was tense this morning despite his efforts to appear relaxed. The youngest Winchester relaxed back into the drivers seat and watched the road ahead. The dream had returned again last night, but it hadn't disrupted his sleep. It wasn't actually a nightmare, not really. Dean was okay in it and that was all that mattered. He found it kind of strange though that he didn't consider his own death something to startle him awake. Maybe it was the detached feeling in the dream. The distinct feeling he had of watching it happen, as if it were a movie on the big screen. And, he was certain now that something was there with him. He was sure his original perception that there was a presence there was correct, but he still didn't know who or what it was. He was certain this dream was a premonition, but when it would happen he had no idea. Time would tell.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: All disclaimers and story info are in chapter 1.**

 **Reader's Note: I hope you are enjoying the story, so far. This novella is fully written, so I will keep posting until it is all up. We have a way to go. I think on paper it's 190 pages or so. Thanks for reading, it's appreciated!**

 **Chapter Ten**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

"Take the next exit up there Sammy," Dean pointed to the sign from the passenger seat indicating it was five miles up. The eldest Winchester had been awake for the last couple hours or so vacillating between idle chat with his little brother and listening to music as Sam stared straight ahead drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Even though the car was filled with the sounds of AC/DC's _Back in Black_ there was this veil of silence that had fallen between the two siblings in the last hour, and it bothered Dean. He had taken to watching Sam out of the corner of his eye and found himself concerned and frustrated. He hated that there were times occurring more and more lately that he felt like there was this space between Sam and everything else, including himself, the big brother. Sam in some way seemed to know that this invisible wall did in fact exist, but he never questioned it. Dean figured it had something to do with the premonitions and nightmares. He knew Sam craved the notion of being normal, but that had all gone up in flames when Jessica died, and his little brother had dreamed of her death days before it happened. And, 'normal' by anyone's standards just wasn't in the cards for the Winchester's. Normal died with their mother on that fateful November night when he was four and Sammy was only six months old.

Dean exited the car and stretched while glancing at his brother. "Here," Sam tossed the keys and headed off to the bathroom. Dean pumped the gas and paid the attendant while he waited for Sam to emerge from the interior of the convenience store. He looked back toward the area of the bathrooms, but then he spotted his taller younger brother walking the snack aisle, and could see that the kid had grabbed some chips, and other munchies. He also noted that he had grabbed a couple drinks, as well. He studied his brother through the glass. Sam's long, unruly bangs hung over his expressive eyes. He could see the young cashier was smiling at his brother, and was flirting. Sam was always very amiable to the opposite sex, and very respectful. He watched Sam smile in return and even offered up his naturally inborn technique of the puppy dog eyes that even he had fallen victim to when they were kids. He had indulged most of his little brothers whims when given 'the eyes', _hell even now it'll still work_ , Dean thought smiling to himself. Sam emerged from the store, and slid into the passenger seat, both brothers closing their doors simultaneously with a firm thud.

"Geez, Mr. Wonka, did you buy out the place?" Dean laughed as he noted Sam had a lot more than he had noticed through the window.

"Just some snacks," Sam answered lightly the humor lacing his voice was unmistakable.

"Just some," Dean took stock of two bags of chips, four candy bars, a jumbo bag of peanut M&M's, he was sure was just for him since Sam hated peanut M&M's. In fact, he remembered a distinct debate they had had over the classic M&M versus the peanut M&M, and that they had reached a stalemate on that battle. Sam handed Dean a tall plastic bottle of Classic Coke, and he noted that his little brother had bought himself bottled water with some kind of frou-frou name he didn't recognize, but sounded like it belonged in a boutique. "So, what do you got there Francis," he quipped. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Bite me." Dean merely smirked at his sibling and put the keys in the ignition.

The black Chevy Impala rumbled to life and Dean headed back up to the on ramp and slid onto the highway into a lane. The dropping sun cast light bands across the car through the tall trees lining the highway. The light danced across the shiny black paint and glinted off the chrome as Metallica's _King Nothing_ began to play. Sam twisted the top on his water and before easing back in his seat for the ride ahead he leaned forward and turned the song up a little. It was a Metallica song he actually liked. Dean cast a wide-eyed look at his younger sibling. He chuckled and breaking into a wide Dean-like grin, "I've converted you," he said proudly.

"You wish," Sam's tone sarcastically humorous.

"Hey, I call em' as I see em'"

"It's one song man, don't go buyin' me the box set for Christmas," Sam replied.

"Sammy _likes_ Metallica," Dean's tone held a laughing singsong quality.

"You're _really_ sure I'm not adopted," Sam asked deadpan. Dean chuckled and taking a drink of his Coke he glanced at his brother.

"Yep, I'm sure. I ordered you special from the cabbage patch kiddo."

"Ha-Ha," Sam answered with a puckish look as he reached over and flicked his brother's ear lightly. Dean jerked his head.

"Ow, you ass!"

"Oh, did Deany-poo get a boo-boo," Sam mocked.

"I'll show you boo-boo, geek boy," Dean swatted his brother up side the head jerking the car slightly toward the shoulder.

"Look out, student driver," Sam's tone light. "You wreck your precious baby it'll be your fault."

"Student driver," The eldest Winchester sibling snorted. "I was driving way before you. I taught you how do drive. That's gratitude for you."

"Gratitude, huh? I distinctly remember wrapping Dad's Toyota truck around a telephone pole my second week with my license." Dean shuddered at the memory of that night as it replayed itself for him instantly.

 _Their Dad had given Sam the keys to his truck to run some errands to restock supplies because their father had a hunt planned for the coming weekend. School was out for the summer, which meant Sammy was free to join his family, and John Winchester had a busy hunting schedule planned for the long summer. Dean had scoffed at his father when originally he had been given the duty of errand running that evening, but when a sixteen-year old Sam was jumping at the chance to drive with his brand new bona fide drivers license Dean knew he had an out. Their dad was doubtful though, and hadn't let Sam drive alone yet, even though he was officially legal to, but he relented at his youngest sons 'puppy eyes' and tossed him his truck keys, and telling him to be careful and not to do anything else beyond the errands. It was a little after 6:00 PM when Sam had pulled out of the driveway, and by 7:15 John had been pacing at the front window. "Dean, go look for your brother," his tone tight._

" _How am I going to find him, dad? He probably just ran across some friends from school, and is shootin' the breeze. Anyway, you gave him a decent sized list of supplies to pick up from Caleb, and at the hardware store. Dean watched his father pick up the telephone and listened as he spoke._

" _Caleb? It's John, has Sam been to your place yet?" Dean watched his father's body language and he involuntarily tensed himself. "If he shows have him call home okay? Thanks." Dean stood the moment his dad hung up the phone._

" _Sammy hasn't been to Caleb's yet?" His voice laced with worry. John shook his head slightly as he scrubbed a hand over his 5 o' clock shadow._

" _Dammit to hell, Sammy," John's voice hissed. "Where the hell are you?" As if fate decided to lend the two Winchester men a break the phone rang, and John snatched it up. Dean watched with hopeful eyes as he silently prayed it was Sam calling from Caleb's. It wasn't. He heard his father's voice take on a different pitch, one that sent his heart hammering in his chest._

" _Yes," John's voice urgent. "No, no allergies. I'm on my way."_

" _Dad?" Dean could feel his stomach clenching._

" _Sammy's been in an accident…" John's voice gruff. "Your keys Dean." John caught the keys as Dean tossed them. "We've got to go, now. He's at the hospital." Dean followed his father out of the small house they had rented while staying in this town._

" _Dad? How bad? Sammy's okay, right?" John didn't respond, and got in the car. Dean slid into the passenger seat still looking to his father for some kind of reply. "Dad?" John cast a glance at Dean and that's when he saw it, a look he hadn't really ever seen from his dad very often except during a hunt going bad, it was fear. "Dad?"_

" _It's bad, Dean," and that was all John could get out. He didn't trust his voice any further; his mind replaying what he heard on the phone from the hospital. The litany of injuries bounced inside his head: fractured left forearm, closed-head injury, a possible skull fracture, and scalp laceration in need of stitches, a severe laceration to his right thigh that required stitches and they hadn't ruled out a neck injury. He heard words like unresponsive, poor vitals, critical condition, and Jaws of Life. God, his son had to be cut out of the wreckage, he thought to himself; his mind was reeling._

 _The ER came into view as John slammed the car into park in the nearest available parking spot. Dean followed closely behind. Both Winchester men tore into the ER with a determined pace toward the reception area. The desk crew took note of John's hard expression and somewhat wild eyes. "I was called. My son was involved in a car accident. Samuel Winchester where is he?" His voice was controlled, but deadly serious._

" _Yes," the woman replied. "Let me page one of his doctors for you." John let out an anxiety filled breath and cast a glance at his oldest son. Dean's eyes were distant as he stared at the closed doors leading into the trauma rooms. John could see that his firstborn son's eyes were haunted. He reached up and cupped one of Dean's shoulders firmly. Dean looked up at his father. "We won't lose him Dean. Sammy will be fine."_

" _You don't know that dad," Dean's voice betraying his emotional state. "You said yourself they said it was 'bad', so don't tell me you know he's going to be okay." John nodded._

" _You're right, I don't know Dean," John relented. "But, I do know Sammy is stubborn, and he'll fight." And, those words hit a chord with Dean, and he knew it was the truth. The doors leading to the trauma area swung open and both John and Dean noted the man approaching him wore blood-spattered scrubs, and his eyes held something John refused to believe was sympathy. He wouldn't lose his youngest son. He refused to bury another loved one, let alone his own child, his youngest. And, Dean would not recover from this if Sammy died. Dean and Sam were two sides of the same coin. His sons were both so different, but fiercely loyal to the other. He'd lose two sons if Sam didn't survive, one to physical death and another to a more horrible kind of death, that of the soul. And, this was simply not acceptable._

" _Mr. Winchester," the doctor extended a hand to the man. He cast a glance in Dean's direction. "Maybe, we should speak privately?"_

" _No," John answered sternly as he looked at Dean briefly before returning his gaze to the doctor. "Dean is Sam's older brother. Whatever you have to say you can say in front of him."_

" _Fine, shall we," the doctor motioned toward a room. The sign on the outside said 'Family Room,' and Dean held back. He knew from TV what that room meant. He had watched the various hospital television shows, now and again, and his world was beginning to spin. That's the room they take you to so they can rip out your heart, that's the room where they make you listen to the words 'I'm sorry we did all we could, but we weren't able to save him. I'm sorry he didn't make it.' And Dean refused to take another step. He was certain that if he stayed right where he was that he'd hold the goddamn Grim Reaper at bay. It wouldn't get his brother, not his Sammy. His little brother, the brother he had vowed to always protect. Sam was alive until he walked in there, and his feet refused to move._

" _Dean?" John looked back at his eldest son when he noticed he hadn't moved. "Come on." Dean shook his head, his eyes absent. John walked up to his son. "Dean?"_

" _No," his oldest son's voice was quiet. "I won't go in there."_

" _Dean the doctor needs to talk to us. I don't have time for this." John pulled his son toward the room, and was surprised when Dean resisted with pulling away._

" _Don't!" he spat. "I go in there he's going to say Sammy's dead. I won't go in there."_

 _The doctor approached then. "Dean, is it?" His voice soft and knowing, he was a brother, too, and understood. The young man nodded. "I promise you I'm taking you and your father in there to discuss your brother's condition. He's alive, I promise."_

" _He is?" It really wasn't a question and the doctor knew that. It sounded more like the kid was processing the information and convincing himself. Dean allowed himself to be led into the room, and settled in a chair. John knew Dean was badly shaken because it was very uncharacteristic of his eldest son to appear so vulnerable. But, he understood that the one thing that could bring Dean to his knees and crumble that well developed Winchester stoicism was his little brother. Sam, John noted, was Dean's greatest strength and greatest weakness._

 _John and Dean had settled into the ICU room that Sam had been put in over three hours ago. The various machines went about making their noises, and Dean blocked most of them out, except for the steady beep of the heart monitor that assured him his brother still lived. John Winchester had listened to the doctor hours earlier go over Sam's condition and he was thankful they had ruled out a skull fracture and any neck or spinal injuries. But, it did little to truly comfort him. His youngest son was still in critical condition. He had been told that Sam suffered a serious closed head injury, and was unresponsive. He watched his baby son, and his absolute stillness unnerved him completely, but he wouldn't allow Dean to see it. He had to stay strong for both his boys. He took stock of the multiple IV's running from his son. The heart monitor that blipped an arched line across the screen with steady assured beeps accompanying it, and the blood oxygen monitor attached to a finger. Sam's left forearm bore a new cast, John was glad that the fracture was a clean one, and wouldn't require surgery to correct. He hazarded a glance toward Dean, and could see the lines of tension pulling at his eldest son's face. "You okay, son?" Dean nodded absently in reply his eyes never leaving Sam's still features. "Dean," John's voice managed to break through the temporary paralysis of his son's mental state, and Dean turned and met his father's eyes across the other side of Sam's bed._

" _Yes, sir?" John's eyes softened._

" _He's going to pull through this Dean."_

" _Why won't he wake up Dad? He hasn't even twitched."_

" _His body just needs to rest," he tried to assure. "When he's ready he'll wake up." John was secretly saying that for both their sakes. He was trying to convince himself as much as he was his own son._

" _The drunk bastard that ran him off the road is gonna pay, dad," Dean's voice was low and dangerous as his eyes shifted back to his silent brother._

" _He's in police custody Dean. Just let it go." John was angry and would love more than anything to have five minutes alone with the man that did this to his child. Five minutes to teach the man that there are far worse things than death. But, he'd have to let the law handle this one. He had an injured son to think about and another one hanging on by the skin of his teeth._

" _How can you say just let it go," Dean's voice hissed quietly._

" _Watch your tone," John's voice warned softly. "I'd like to see him pay just as much as you, but that isn't what Sammy needs right now. Let the system handle him. Anyway, what goes around comes around…eventually," John assured. Dean shifted his eyes from his brother back to his father._

" _Yeah, Karma's a bitch," Dean quipped and shared a smile with his dad._

 _John glanced from Sam to Dean and was glad that his eldest son had finally nodded off in the chair next to his little brother's bed. He was positive his son had to be mentally exhausted over everything that had happened in the last few hours. Hell, he idly thought to himself, he was too, but he was the parent and he'd keep watch over both his children this night. His eyes drifted from his first born back to his baby son. He smiled ever so slightly. Yes, he still considered him his baby son, but Sam was almost as tall as Dean now, and he was certain in another year he'd pass his big brother up in height. Sam was growing into a fine man and John considered he had little to do with that. Dean had taken on the duty and care of Sam early on. Of course, John was still their father, and the provider, but he acknowledged that Dean was in many ways both a big brother and impromptu father figure. And, with a rueful smile John thought to himself, that more times than not Sammy was more inclined to listen to Dean than his own father, and John accepted that, most of the time. He studied Sam's still features, and tried not to dwell on the tube coming from his son's mouth that aided his breathing. He watched the mechanical rise and fall of his young son's chest, and could do nothing but hold his cool, slack hand in his own warm, broad one. He rubbed tender circles with his thumb across the top of his son's hand. He was comforted by the contact, and leaned forward whispering into Sam's ear, willing him to open his eyes. He studied Sam's young fingers against his own palm, and hot tears stung threatening to spill over. Sammy was only sixteen, and John knew that he wasn't out of the woods yet, but he refused to accept that death would claim his son, his and Dean's last true link with Mary, his beloved wife and mother of his son's. Sam reminded him so much of Mary, and he was certain Sammy was that link for Dean, as well. His youngest son's features were soft, like Mary's. His mouth and smile were his mother's. His very being was gentle in so many ways that reminded John that Mary was still with him. Dean's features had favored his own, more angular, and tough, but Dean's expressive eyes when he allowed emotion to slip to them reminded him of Mary. And, under the hard exterior that he had adopted over the years there was softness, and vulnerability that told John his eldest son was and always would be his Mary's son._

" _Dad?" Dean's voice broke John from his thoughts and staring at Sam's unmoving fingers in his own hand. Dean saw the unshed tears in his father's eyes, and it scared him. "Dad, you okay? Is Sam…" He leaned forward looking at the heart monitor for any sign something was amiss._

" _I'm fine son," John tried to assure. "And, Sammy's is holding his own." Dean sat back and drew in a long cleansing breath._

" _Okay." Dean tried to keep the fear he felt out of his voice. "You should sleep a little Dad," he encouraged. "I'll sit up with Sammy." John didn't want to sleep, but he knew without Dean saying the words that he wanted some time with his little brother._

" _All right," he replied as he pulled his chair back a little and settled in closing his eyes to appease his son._

 _The room was dim except for a pale light on over Sam's bed Dean pulled his chair closer and tentatively placed a hand on his brother's upper arm. His side of the bed was his little brother's cast side. He looked at the cast, and smirked as he looked up at his brother. "So, how many does this make it now, Sammy? Cast number five?" His kept his voice quiet as he tried not to disturb his father. "You know Dad's truck is a piece of scrap metal now from what the cop's said." Dean didn't know what to say to his brother, so he thought idle chitchat would suffice until he thought of something meaningful to say. "Geez, Sammy look at you," Dean keeping his voice light. "You lucked out with the stitches in your head," he commented. "They're right at your hairline, and your mop you call hair will cover the scar if you have one." He gently pushed up his brother's bangs and took note of the Steri-strips that covered the stitches on his forehead, and he counted the dark stitching under them. "Let's see," his voice a mere whisper, as he stood next to his brother's face inspecting the ER doc's handy work. "one, three, eight, twelve. Not too bad, huh? I hear your leg got some too, kiddo. I heard the doc tell dad you got thirty-five in your thigh. Hey, we throw in a couple metal bolts for your neck, and I'll start calling you Frankie," he paused. "You know short for Frankenstein." He quipped. "What? No complaints from the peanut gallery? Come on, Sammy, open your eyes and tell me to shut up." He waited and watched his brother's face for any sign that his voice was even breaking through to the dark place his brother existed right now. Sam remained silent and unmoving. Dean reached up and felt compelled to touch his brother's pale cheek. He stared at the tube in his brother's mouth, and he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It was a lifeline for his brother, but he still hated the idea that it snaked down his brother's throat and pushed air into his lungs. He wanted Sammy to breathe on his own. He pulled the chair closer as he leaned forward and rested his head against Sam's chest ever so lightly, and listened to his brother's heartbeat. "You gotta come back to us, Sammy. Dad and I can't cope without you."_

 _John had heard everything his oldest son had said to his youngest and it tore at his heart. Dean would be utterly broken if they lost Sam, hell they both would be. He continued to keep his eyes closed allowing Dean his time with his little brother. Three days later, in the early morning hours before the sun had begun to rise. John sat next to Sam's bed in his familiar vigil pose, and held his son's hand. Dean was asleep in his chair with his head propped in one of his hands. A barely perceivable twitch came from the small hand in John Winchester's own hand. He looked down at the Sam's hand in his own, but saw nothing. He cast a hopeful glance upward to study his son's silent face. The tube now gone, and replaced by an oxygen mask when Sam had begun breathing on his own yesterday very early. It had elated both Winchester men, but the need to see Sam open his eyes still hung heavy in the room despite the joy that Sam no longer required a ventilator to breathe. But, as John looked at Sam there was no movement he remained still, and he almost relegated the twitch to a muscle spasm or maybe, he had imagined it, but it happened again only this time John watched in amazement as Sam's young fingers curled around his own fingers. "Sammy?" John stood up and leaned over his son still keeping his hand in his own. "Son, can you hear me, it's dad?" He gave a light squeeze of his son's hand. "Sammy?" And, then it happened, he watched as Sam scrunched his face a little as he fought to surface toward consciousness. "Sammy, I'm here. You can do it, son."_

 _Dean woke to his father's words, and he sat up. And, with amazement saw that Sam was indeed trying to wake up. He stood immediately and took up post beside his brother. He touched Sam's face with his hand. "Sam, you heard dad," he encouraged. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."_

" _Samuel, open your eyes," John resorted to the fatherly tone that usually propelled his youngest into obeying. He watched Sam fight harder past the darkness holding him. "Come on son."_

" _Yeah, Sammy, you can do it. Open your eyes." And, then it happened; dark eyes opened and held confusion as he looked from his father's glistening eyes to his brother's eyes that mimicked his father's._

" _Dad? Dean?" His voice was a mere scratchy whisper, but it was the sweetest sound John and Dean Winchester had ever heard._

"Hey, Earth to Dean!" Sam waved a hand in Dean's peripheral vision.

"Huh?" Dean answered absently.

"Where'd you go just then?"

"Nothin'," Dean's voice annoyed. "Nowhere."

"Yeah, well, keep on the road this time," Sam's voice amused. "Unless the Chevy Impala was originally intended for off-road use," he quipped with an amused tone.

"Bite me," Dean groused. His mind still clinging to the memories that were finally beginning to subside. After a few minutes Dean hazarded a glance at his brother as Sam watched the scenery go by the passenger window. Dean couldn't stop the slight smile that crept across his features and was gone in an instant. He couldn't imagine what life would have been like had he and his father lost Sam back then, but he wasn't going to dwell on it, after all, it was over and done. Sam was where he was supposed to be, at his big brother's side, safe and sound.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: all disclaimers and story info are in chapter 1.**

 **Note to Readers: Thank you for continuing to read, it's appreciated!**

 **Chapter Eleven**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

Sam leafed through the worn leather journal of his father's looking for any information on entities, and cleansing a dwelling of one. Dean loaded another cassette into his tape deck, and watched the road ahead. The siblings had fallen into a comfortable silence over the last hour or so, and it appeared to be working for both of them. As AC/DC's _Highway to Hell_ emitted from the car speakers Dean reached over and turned the volume down slightly deciding he was going to break the silence. "Find anything in dad's journal?"

"Yeah," Sam answered absently still scanning a page. "I think this might help. Dad put some information in here on some herbs and stuff that we can load into the shotgun shells that should disperse it, but it has to be a direct hit," Sam commented. "I don't know, Dad wrote down that the blast has to hit the center body mass once the entity shows itself, and then it can be killed or sent back to Hell, whatever."

"Cool," Dean commented casually. "What's it say we need?"

"Sage and comfrey."

"Well, I can't say we have that in the trunk," Dean mused.

"Nah, but I bet that Glendan woman has some since she's psychic and all. I mean look at all that stuff Missouri had."

"Yeah, you're right. We'll figure it out once we get there. Anyway, it's not like anyone is in immediate danger. They're staying out of the house."

"Yeah," Sam answered returning to the journal, and Dean turned back up the volume and settled back into driving letting AC/DC soak into him. The eldest Winchester child decided that Pennsylvania felt like it went on forever as he drove. Yes, he planned on stopping for the night and then hit New Jersey the next day, but he could swear that every time they stopped for gas and he checked how close they were to Jersey it still seemed farther away. The proverbial one step forward and two steps back. _I'm hungry_ , he entertained the thought in his head. He looked over at Sam who seemed entertained with reading more emails from his college buddies on his cell.

"I'm getting hungry," Dean suggested suddenly.

"Hmm," Sam mumbled as he read over a lengthy email from a friend filling him in on events and general gossip he'd missed out on since leaving Stanford.

"I said," Dean projected his voice in an attempt to penetrate his brother's fog. "I said… I'm getting hungry."

"All grease," Sam answered as he pressed his pen stylus on his cell advancing to another email. Dean looked at his brother as if he'd sprouted horns.

"Huh? All grease? Are you even listening to me?" Sam released a much put upon sigh and turned to his brother.

"Yes, I heard you," he confirmed. "Every place we stop there's nothing but grease and fried crap to eat."

"So what! You're the one that eats the rabbit food junk. I don't make you eat my stuff."

"You're a heart attack walking Dean." Sam blanched at that statement as he recalled the events of the electrocution and the Reaper. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say…" Dean held up a hand.

"Relax Sammy," Dean smiled. "I'm glad you can finally joke about it."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean…"

"I know, okay? Chill."

"You should eat healthier you know," he quipped. "You're not getting any younger."

"Yeah, well don't have me retired and playing shuffle board just yet, Sammy boy." His younger brother laughed loudly and smiled.

"You playing shuffle board, yeah right."

"I've seen stranger things happen," Dean mused. Sam spotted some food signs along the highway and pointed.

"Grandma's Kitchen," Sam read a sign out loud. "Now how could you go wrong with that one?" He mused.

"Geez, Sam," Dean rolled his eyes. "What about that Italian place?"

"The Spinning Fork?" Sam volleyed as he quirked his mouth with displeasure. "I don't feel like pasta."

"Maybe I do," Dean retorted.

"Fine, you eat. I'll get a house salad." Dean glanced at his brother for a long moment and took the exit. Sam stared out the passenger window saying nothing more. He wasn't even paying attention to the town as they drove through or the parking lot they pulled into until they came to a stop, and he looked up. "This is Grandma's Kitchen," Sam commented.

"College boy can read," Dean said with a smile.

"Ha-ha," Sam feigned annoyance at the casual jibe.

"Come on kiddo, maybe grandma has something other than salad you'll eat." They opened their doors simultaneously and walked together toward the small restaurant.

The restaurant was quaint inside, although the booths in the establishment resembled a 1950's greasy spoon, but they were clean. The windows were framed with frilly curtains, and both men figured it was an attempt to increase the homey factor, but sort of fell short. They could have cared less as long as the food was good. A woman that looked in her 50's approached them, her uniform consisted of a knee length skirt, and blue blouse. And, was topped off with a frilly edged apron that tied in a bow at the small of her back. Dean thought forcing the apron on the women that worked her was overkill. "Hi boys," the woman offered a smile meeting eyes with Dean and glancing at the quiet younger man with him. "Booth or table?"

"Booth" Dean answered returning a broad Dean smile. He had discovered something about himself over the years that he was a chronic flirter even if he wasn't attracted to the woman. It was just reflex. She saw them seated handed them menus once they were settled.

"I'll be your server. My name is Diane. What would the two of you like to drink?"

"Coffee…black" Dean replied. "And, a water, thanks."

"Sure thing," she looked at Sam. "And, for the quiet pensive one." Sam turned his face up towards her a slight smile creeping up at the edges of his mouth. He could feel his face coloring slightly, and the heat rising in his cheeks. The woman smiled, "a man that can blush, how refreshing. So what will it be?"

"I think I'll have an orange juice and a large glass of ice water."

"Okay, I'll be back in a few with your drinks and I'll get your order."

"Thanks," Dean replied as he kicked Sam under the table a Cheshire grin spreading cheek to cheek.

"Shut up," Sam groused interpreting the kick, and reading his brother's smile.

"What?" Dean asked innocently.

"You know what." Sam added.

"Hey, I can't help that it appears every woman on Earth is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes." Dean mused as he scanned over his menu.

"And, my boyish good looks," Sam added with a genuine smile.

"Key word being 'boyish' since I've cornered the market on handsome." Sam rolled his eyes.

"You know Dean I know the perfect hookup for you."

"Oh yeah, what's her name? A chick from Stanford, who?" Sam snorted.

"What?"

"A mirror."

"Huh?" Sam just looked at his brother waiting for him to get the punch line. "Oh, very funny College boy. Remind me to laugh later, okay?"

"Hey, so your vain," Sam commented.

"I am not."

"Sure thing."

"Sammy," Dean's voice dropped an octave.

"It's Sam, and shut up, here come our drinks."

"I'm not vain," he muttered under his breath and he flipped through the menu.

Sam coughed his response trying to mask it, "bull." Dean glared at Sam over the top of his menu.

"I heard that," Dean grumbled. Both young men looked up as their server put their drinks down, and dropped some paper wrapped straws on the table.

"So, what'll it be boys? Or do you need more time?"

"Nah," Dean started. "I know what I want," he looked down at his menu. "I'm going to have the turkey and gravy with mash potatoes."

Diane looked up from her order pad, and glanced at Dean. "You get a vegetable with that," she offered. "The choices are there," she pointed at the bottom of the menu indicating a list of available sides. Dean scrunched his nose slightly as he read over some unsavory choices. He found one that would do.

"I think I'll take corn."

"Loose or on the cob?"

"Cob."

"Sure thing, and for you honey?" Sam smiled.

"Chicken vegetable pot pie."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's it."

"Okay, it should be ready in about twenty."

"Thanks," both brothers answered in unison. They shifted their eyes back to one another, and smirked. They had caught themselves over the last few months falling into their old sibling coincidences and regularities, and saying the same thing at the same time had been something they'd had since they were kids.

Sam grinned. "Man, that used to drive dad nuts sometimes, remember?"

"Yeah, but I think he secretly liked it, ya know?" Sam nodded to his brother. "I think he believed after a while that we were like this unit that didn't operate without the other. I think that's why he always had us watch each others backs when he took us on hunts as kids."

"Nah, Dean," Sam scoffed. "He thought I was a screw up and that you'd carry my weight, and keep my ass alive."

"Sammy, dad didn't think you were a screw up," he studied his brother and could see the doubt there. "You know damn well if he had he would have left you at home or with Pastor Jim when he and I went on hunts."

"Yeah, I guess," Sam acquiesced.

"And, you always carried your own weight Sammy, never doubt that. Hell, you remember that poltergeist when you were twelve and I was sixteen?" Dean waited for a sign of recognition from his little brother. "Oh, come on Sam, you're a little young for memory loss. The poltergeist in New Hampshire, remember now?"

"Oh yeah," Sam answered as his eyes lit up with remembrance. "Moultonborough, right?"

"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "You more than carried your weight on that hunt, and you definitely weren't a screw up. You saved my ass that night." Sam snorted a laugh.

"I did, huh? I just remember you calling me a stupid idiot, and yelling at me. Dad was even pissed." Dean lowered a look on his younger sibling.

"I was scared Sammy and so was dad. I mean…" he paused. "You could have been killed. You were hurt pretty bad. I hadn't seen you that banged up for a while, and you were out cold for like thirty minutes. I thought dad was going to have a coronary."

"I don't remember him looking worried," Sam commented. "I just remember him looking pissed."

"Yeah, well," Dean began. "His worried face switched off a few seconds after you came around, and he knew you weren't gonna die from some head trauma or internal bleeding."

"I suppose." Sam relented. "I guess I do remember him hovering around a lot at the motel during the night." Dean nodded. He thought back on that night, as it played in his head.

"Dean, look out," the eldest Winchester child spun around at the sound of his little brother's shout. Sammy's voice hadn't changed yet, and still had the high child tone that would eventually be replaced by puberty. Dean could do nothing to stop Sam has he darted in front of the manifesting poltergeist taking its attention from his big brother. It lashed out at Sam with ferocity and Dean watched Sam's t-shirt shred at the shoulder and saw a dark circle begin to color the pale blue Power Rangers shirt, Sammy's favorite. "Sammy!" And, in the next instance the poltergeist's energy picked Sam up, and then threw him across the room shattering a mirror as he hit a distant wall, and landed unmoving in a boneless heap. John Winchester had heard his firstborn son scream his youngest name, and had flown down the staircase skipping stairs two at a time.

" _Dean!" he bellowed. He had been doing an incantation upstairs trying to rid the house of the destructive spirit, and he hadn't finished it when he heard Dean yell. He saw with horror across the room in a distant parlor his baby son lying motionless on the floor, and even in the dim light he could see a small red circle spreading away from his young, lanky body. But, his attention shifted to Dean and the poltergeist was advancing on his other son. He started the incantation once again to finish it, and just as Dean began to feel a pull against his body as the poltergeist almost had him, as he rolled into a protective ball, and suddenly it was gone. A loud cacophonic noise and a flash of blinding light filled the room, and everything was silent. "Dean?" John's voice urgent as he bent to check on his son._

" _Dad? Sammy's hurt," Dean scrambled up to his feet as his father pulled him up. Dean darted in the direction Sam had been thrown, and John strode urgently toward his youngest child._

" _Sammy," his voice forceful, yet gentle. His fingers shook ever so slightly as he slid them against his son's neck checking for a pulse. The movement he felt under his fingertips comforted him. He turned Sam over slowly examining him. He reached into the shredded material of the t-shirt, and with one pull he tore it open completely to examine the wound. He saw four deep claw-like marks, but was relieved at least they weren't wide, and the scarring shouldn't be bad. However, the blood loss was another thing, he rolled up the tattered t-shirt and pressed it against the wound to staunch the bleeding. "Here Dean," John grabbed his son's hands and placed them on the material. "Hold it down on Sammy. I have to look him over. Don't let up we have to stop the bleeding. Dean nodded. He felt on automatic pilot, do this, hold that, yes, no were the only responses in his world right now that and worrying at how incredibly still and silent state of Sammy. It was disconcerting seeing his youngest, usually very talkative and active twelve year-old brother in this condition. He was used to seeing him bounding up and down like an excited puppy. Now, he was unmoving and very pale._

" _Dad?" He couldn't prevent the scared shake to his voice. "Is Sammy okay?" John cast a quick glance at Dean._

" _He'll be fine," he answered quickly, too quickly. And, Dean knew in that moment his father was afraid. He watched his father check Sam's head with probing fingers, and saw a concerned look cross his face and stay there as he pulled away fingertips stained with blood; Sam's blood._

" _Sammy," John patted his young son's face. "Sammy, open your eyes." Dean sat pressing the t-shirt against his brother's wound, and watched with hopeful eyes. "Samuel Winchester," John's voice became commanding, and to his relief it elicited a response from his young son. Sam began to stir, but hadn't opened his eyes. "Sam, open your eyes that's an order, son," John maintaining his authoritarian tone. Sam stirred again and John watched his eyes flutter. He watched anxiously as his son's brown lashes parted and his dark eyes opened._

" _Hey there sport," John's voice soft. He glanced at his watch and his brow creased that thirty minutes had past. "Sammy?"_

" _Dad?" Sam tried to move, but jerked against the pain that erupted in is side._

" _Sammy, don't move," this time it was the voice of his big brother barking orders at him._

" _You okay," Sam whispered as he surveyed his older brother. Dean smiled._

" _Yeah, but that was stupid what you pulled Sammy." Dean admonished._

" _Sam lie still. I need to check your wound." John lifted the t-shirt and was happy to see that the claw marks had indeed stopped bleeding, and only oozed. "Good," he commented out loud to no one in particular. He watched Sam's eyes droop slowly. "No, Sam, stay awake for me."_

" _Tired, Dad," the young boy complained._

" _Samuel," he commanded as the child's eyes began to close again. Sam's eyes snapped open. "You disobeyed a direct order young man. I told you to stay in the den of that house and let your brother and I deal with the poltergeist."_

" _But, Dad," Sam whispered. His face was pale and tight with pain. "Dean would have been hurt."_

" _Don't back talk me Samuel. You could have been killed." John hadn't meant to be gruff, but he was stressed and worried, not a good combination, so he reprimanded his youngest._

 _Later that night, as John carried Sam into their motel room he had instructed Dean to grab the suture kit, so he could stitch his son's wound closed._

" _Dad, no. I don't want stitches," Sam begged._

" _Sammy, it'll be okay," Dean tried to comfort his little brother._

" _Son, it has to be done. It won't take long." John's military training kicked in, and he did what he had to do. He hated that he had nothing to give his son for the pain, but Sammy was a trooper, he always had been._

" _Here, Sammy, hold my hand," Dean offered. "Just squeeze as hard as you want instead of yelling, okay?"_

" _You're not still mad at me," Sam's looked at his brother with his dark expressive eyes showing the physical pain he felt._

" _I'm mad at what you did Sammy, not at you." Dean offered as he brushed back his brother's unruly bangs. Sam furrowed his brow._

" _That doesn't make sense."_

" _Sure it does. I can't be mad at you for you protecting me, although I gotta say, it's not your job to look out for me," he said leveling a hard gaze on his sibling. "It's my job to look out for you. I'm the big brother, remember?"_

" _You never let me forget," Sam offered as he squeezed his brother's hand tightly as John drew the suture thread through his torn skin. Dean grinned at his brother's reply._

" _But, you try a stunt like that again little man, and I'll kill you myself, understood?"_

" _Yeah," Sam response left his mouth in a hiss as another suture thread was pulled through his skin._

 _Dean had slept in spurts of time that night, as he seemed to wake every time he heard his father move about the darkened motel room. He could see his father's figure pass by the window toward Sam's side of the bed to check on him throughout the night. His father would check the wound for any bleeding, monitor Sam's breathing and pulse. And, off and on every couple hours or so, he would awaken Sam and have him respond to questions, and then let him drift off again. Dean may have only been sixteen, but he knew his father was making sure Sam didn't have a concussion, after all, it wasn't the first time he had either watched his father do it to Sam, or to himself for that matter. He himself had actually ended up in the hospital after is father deemed it necessary._

"Dean?" Sam's voice snapped Dean from yet another trip down memory lane.

"Yeah," he answered so quickly it seemed a programmed response.

"You checked out again," Sam studied his brother's face.

The sound of their waitress approaching with their food drew both their attentions. "Saved by the dinner bell," Sam quipped. Diane refilled their drinks and left them to eat their food. "So, you wanna tell me where you went," Sam's tone light. Dean met his brother's eyes over his cup of steaming coffee.

"Eat your food Sammy."

"It's Sam," he corrected staring at Dean.

"Just Eat, _Sam_ ," he made sure to accentuate the truncated name preference of his younger brother.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: all story disclaimers and story info are in chapter 1.**

 **Reader's Note: Thank you for continuing to read and leave your comments. Also, for the anonymous reviewers that don't sign in, so I can thank you personally, 'thank you'. Happy Reading, I hope.**

 **Chapter Twelve**

 **by Dawn Nyberg**

The sun had dropped below the trees some time ago, but hung in the distance casting a warm glow across the early pre-evening sky. The orange and red streaks branched out and disappeared into wispy white clouds that seemed to hold left over light and glow around the edges. The windows of the Impala were opened slightly in the back allowing crisp clean air to slip inside. The gentle breeze ruffled the edges of Sam's hair just behind his ear causing him to absently reach back and scratch the tickle it caused. The road had been stretching in front of the two brothers for over four hours now, and Dean knew Sam would want to stretch his legs soon. He ejected his current music from the cassette deck, and reached for a new tape. He slid in his choice, and noted his younger brother's eye roll, as the music started.

"Problem?"

"Ratt? Dean, man come on you really gotta update your collection."

"Like I told you back when we were headed to Jerrico," Dean paused. "Driver picks the music and shotgun shuts his cake hole."

"Yeah, whatever," Sam groused. He was half tempted to sneak off with the Impala during one of their breaks between gigs, and have the tape deck yanked, and a CD changer installed. Of course, he was certain after his brother had killed him for such an infraction that he would console himself with simply replacing his music tapes with their CD replicas. He smiled inwardly.

"I looked on the map the last time we stopped for gas like an hour ago, and I think we'll stop in Erwinna for the night." Dean commented.

"Er… what? It sounds like a hole in the wall."

"Erwinna," Dean repeated. "We're just sleeping there Sammy not putting down roots."

"Do you even know where we're going to stay?"

"Yeah, the guy at the gas station said the town only had a couple places that he knew of, and the closest to where we need to be is a place called the Golden Pheasant something or another. The dude wasn't real sure, but he said it's on Route 32 which is what we need to cross over on the bridge into Jersey."

"The Golden Pheasant? Sounds like it's either really expensive or Motel Hell."

"My brother the eternal optimist," Dean quipped. "Look we need to crash for the night, and at this point I don't care."

"Really? You might if this place would send its own rats running," Sam mused. Dean just shook his head.

"What are you afraid of a few bugs, Francis," Dean chuckled.

"Bite me," Sam grumbled.

The sun had disappeared and the road stretched into blackness illuminated by the occasional lighted highway billboard or sign. Dean glanced at his watch. "Man, it's barely six and it's dark. You'd think it was fall and not spring."

"Yeah," was Sam's mirthless reply. "Hey look," he pointed to the approaching highway sign.

"Cool," Dean smiled. "Erwinna exit 5 miles."

Erwinna, Pennsylvania

Dean looked up from filling the Impala up at a small gas station, "you get the directions?"

"Yeah, right out of here and at the light Route 32 becomes River Road. The dude said we can't

miss it." Sam paused. "Oh, and he told me it's a B&B."

"Seriously, man," Dean knew what that meant clean sheets, and it wasn't a roach motel masquerading under an upper crust name.

"Yeah, and apparently they have really great food there. The guy said he took his wife there for their one-year anniversary. Sounded gourmet."

"Sweet," Dean's mouth was all ready watering. He finished pumping, and walked casually into the station and paid the man. Sam stretched one last time and climbed in as Dean approached. "I hope they got a vacancy."

"They should," Sam commented. "The guy said it's not the busy season yet."

The road was well lit as they drove. It wasn't that busy with traffic and Dean spotted the sign indicating where he had to go to reach the inn. "There it is," Dean pointed. It was dark and neither of the young men cared to notice what it looked like from the outside. All Dean cared about was if they had room. "You go, Sammy," Dean encouraged. "Your puppy dog eyes will get a room."

"Geez, Dean, if they have a vacancy we'll get a room regardless of my so called puppy dog eyes as you put it."

Sam walked in the front door and went about arranging for a room. "Yeah, just one night. My brother and I have been on the road all day."

"I'll give you and your brother our Catherine Room. At least it has blue bedding and isn't quite as frilly. Enjoy your stay. And, dinner is being served right now," the woman at the front desk mentioned. Sam had all ready forgotten her name. His mind was too road weary to really care.

"Thanks."

"I hope the bed situation isn't too much of an inconvenience for you and your brother."

"Nah, we're both pretty tired. At this point I don't even think my big brother will care." The woman smiled.

"Well, get settled, and please come for dinner."

"Thanks again."

Dean watched Sam come out of the B&B and could see the key as he lifted it up in the air jangling in front of his face. Dean understood what that meant; they had a room. "Hot damn," he said to himself as he exited the car. Sam opened the back door on his side, and pulled out his bag. Dean popped the trunk and grabbed his duffel. "They still serving dinner," Dean asked cocking his head in the inn's direction.

"Yeah, but I should tell you something."

"What's that?"

"The rooms only have one queen each. So, we gotta bunk together." Dean stared at Sam.

"Ah, hell, you're kiddin' right?"

"No, it's one night Dean. It's not like we didn't share a bed for years when we were younger. And, anyway you're not my type," he added with a smirk and glint in his eye. Dean laughed.

"Fine, but you better not hog the covers."

"I never…" Sam smiled.

"Like hell you don't. Man, when you were little I'd wake up with nothing on me at all, and you'd be burrito boy all wrapped up. I'd have to pull off whatever layer I could just to keep warm." Sam rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't that bad."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that little brother. You're a blanket hog."

"I was a kid. I'm adult now." Dean raised an eyebrow at that one.

"Whatever you say College Boy."

"Come on," Sam complained. "The sooner we dump our crap we can eat."

Dean glanced at his brother, "what you actually got an appetite?"

"Yeah, and don't look at me like that," Sam replied slightly irritated by the expression on his brother's face a mixture of amusement and concern.

"I'm not lookin' at you like anything." He paused. "Come on, I want some grub."

"Grub? Dean, this place serves gourmet some kind of French style or something. So, I doubt they'd appreciate your 'grub' reference."

"When did you become the food vocabulary police?"

"Ha-Ha very funny," Sam's annoyed tone didn't escape his brother. They climbed the stairs and Sam glanced at the rooms and the nameplates on the doors. "Here, it's this one."

"The Catherine Room," Dean shook his head. "Well, Francis you should fit in just fine," he mused as his brother opened the door.

"I might remind you that this place was your idea, Percy." Dean only grunted a response as he skirted around his brother to get in the room.

"This is a chick room," Dean groused. "God, it even has a bed skirt, and what's that blue ruffle thing around the top of the bed? Jesus, Sammy, this is my worst nightmare. I'd rather face a pissed off poltergeist than stay here."

"Let it go Dean. We're not going to ever see these people again, and it's one night. I don't care for it either, but if it's any consolation the girl that registered us said this was the least frilly room."

"Damn, if that's true the other rooms must look like Barbie's Playhouse." Dean dropped his duffel in a red wingback chair in the corner of the room beyond the bed. "Man, let's just go eat. I don't want to do anything, but sleep in here, and get out."

"Fine," Sam rolled his eyes. He dropped his duffel on the floor next to a small bureau adorned with flowers and other bric-a-brac. Both men decided to freshen up before hitting the dining room.

They entered the dining room with fresh shirts and jeans on, and Sam eyed the two tables with people at them. One table hosted an older couple, and the other looked to be a young couple probably just here for the food on a romantic date. "We're a little under dressed," Sam whispered to Dean.

"Oh, pish-posh," an older lady that looked to be in her sixties replied behind them. Sam and Dean both startled at the woman's voice. "The two of you are dressed just fine." Sam and Dean both turned to face her. "Hello, I'm Marni, and, welcome to the Golden Pheasant. My daughter Kate told me we had two young men check in for a night, brothers correct?"

"Yes, Ma'am," both Winchester men replied in unison.

"Well, have a seat and the menus are all ready at your table," she showed them do their seats. "On a road trip?"

"Yes," Dean replied while Sam nodded.

"I'm not sure what wind blew you into our little city or to my doorstep for that matter, but I hope you enjoy your brief stay."

"Thank you," Dean offered. Sam's reply was a smile directed at the older woman. She chuckled lightly.

"Dimples," she commented lightly. "I bet you beat the ladies off with a stick." Dean coughed into his hand to mask a snort of laughter. Sam reddened at her comment. "Sorry, I have a tendency to get a little maternal around the youth. The two of you remind me of my sons."

"Sons? How many children do you have?" Sam questioned.

"Aside from Kate who is my eldest at thirty-two. I have three more, fraternal twins Garrett and Kyle who are twenty-eight and my youngest Bridget she's twenty-four," she paused and smiled with a wink. "She was a little surprise. She's away at graduate school."

"You've got a big family," Dean commented.

"Oh, I've gone on," she admonished herself. "I'll leave you two young men alone, and let you look at the selections for this evening."

Dean and Sam had assured her she wasn't a bother. There was something about her presence that made them compelled to listen to her, and she commanded their respect without saying a word. "Yes!" Dean said in an excited, but low voice.

"What?"

"Dude," Dean leaned over the table toward his brother. "Filet mignon," he smiled. "I think I just died and went to heaven." Sam shook his head in amusement.

"You eat entirely too much beef Dean." Sam scolded.

"Oh, excuse me Peter Rabbit, maybe I require real food, and not that kibble and sprouts you're always eating," Dean paused. Sam leveled a hard gaze on his brother.

"Whatever," Sam retorted.

"What are you gonna eat?"

"The smoked trout sounds good."

"My point exactly."

"Fine, I won't get on your…" Sam lowered his voice and made sure he wasn't in earshot of the other diners. "I won't ride your ass about your eating habits and, you can lay off mine. Deal?"

"Fine," Dean leaned back in his seat. "I'll lay off as long as you eat even though I don't consider…" Sam cut his brother off.

"Dean," Sam's voice warned.

"My bad," Dean smiled mildly. "Truce."

"Okay." Sam offered his brother a small lopsided grin.

"Hey, good thing this meal is included with the room because… damn my dinner is thirty bucks to non-guests."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "The room was a little pricey I guess this is why. And, we get breakfast, too."

"Sweet."

The two Winchester men ate their dinners in companionable silence. Sam seemed content to glance around the pleasantly dim room and people watch. And, he found himself listening to the various noises of the room. Sam could hear the clinking noise of the silverware hitting the bone china plates and the rustle of the stiff fabric napkins. Dean people watched as well, but he was more interested in devouring his filet mignon. He noticed with a mild curiosity that Sam ate his food, but seemed somewhere else, as if hearing or seeing something he himself could not. The way Sam's eyes moved slowly to one side reminded Dean of an eavesdropper. The way someone listening to a conversation behind them may do, as if the act of moving ones eyes in the direction of the conversation would make the listening more clear. Although, he could see that the people currently at the table a few feet away were not speaking he idly thought, _what could he be listening to?_

"Sammy?" Dean watched his distracted brother focus on him.

"It's Sam," he groused. "Man, how hard can it be to remember?"

"Fine, _Sam_ ," Dean stressed. Of course, Sam knew it wouldn't last and that his big brother would regress sooner rather than later to using the dreaded nickname.

"Well, did you want something?"

"Man, dude, what crawled up your butt," Dean whispered over the table keeping in mind the dining guests. "I just was trying to figure out what you were listening to that's all. You looked like you were eavesdropping on the table over there, but no one was talking." Dean studied his brother, and then he leaned back suddenly. "Wait, it's not something to do with that _Shining_ thing of yours, is it? I mean you're not hearing voices now are you?" Sam looked at his brother as he quirked up the side of his mouth.

"And, if I did?" he questioned. "I'm sure you'd start up with that 'I see dead people' crap again, huh?" Dean looked serious and eased forward while his eyes drifted around the room.

"Do you?" His tone was serious and Sam couldn't hold the chuckle in one moment longer as the quiet, but amused chortle left his mouth.

"No, Dean," Sam asserted. "I'm not seeing 'dead people' or hearing voices at least not yet," he said smiling. "I don't know I was just listening to the sounds in the room." He saw the weird look on his brother's face. "Just drop it okay?"

"Yeah, whatever, man," Dean tossed one more odd glance at his little brother. _Man, this kid can be strange sometimes_ , he thought quietly to himself.

Sam flung himself long-wise across the bed, and let out a long sigh. "Food was good, huh?" He watched his brother take his watch off placing it on the bureau.

"Yeah, that filet was kick ass good. Too bad we can't eat like that all the time."

"What? Are you kidding?" Sam mused. "Damn, as much as you like food and could put it away," Sam snorted. "You'd be a huge lard ass. You wouldn't be able to run down a poltergeist or Wendigo to save your own life, let alone mine."

"You're a wise ass, you know that?" Dean smiled slightly. He wasn't bothered by his kid brother's comments. There was a grain of truth to them, but he'd never let Sam know he agreed with him.

"You want the shower first," Sam asked not commenting on the 'wise ass' comment.

"Yeah, I guess I can at least have the hot water since you'll hog the covers tonight."

"Let it go, Dean. Man, you're like a dog with a bone."

"Wait," Dean chimed in. "You'll see."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam grumbled. Dean just waged a knowing finger at his little brother grabbed some clean boxers and a t-shirt, and went into the bathroom. And, twenty-minutes later he emerged with a damp head of hair, and flushed cheeks from the hot water and steam.

"Man, that felt great."

"Leave any hot water for me?" Sam asked as he turned from his duffel bag he had been digging through when Dean finished up.

"Maybe some," Dean offered.

"I bet," Sam complained.

"Hey, you asked me if I wanted to go first," Dean reminded his younger brother. Sam just waved a hand at his brother indicating he didn't need reminding, as he disappeared into the bathroom. Dean punched his pillow on his side of the bed. He slid his hunting knife under the pillow, _old habits die-hard_ , he mentally told himself. Dean chose the side of the bed closest to the door, yet another habit he had acquired over the years. It was automatic to choose the spot that put him between a possible danger and Sammy. And, despite being in a B&B for the night wasn't going to break his nightly regimen of making sure Sam was safe. His Dad had always said that it only takes one mistake, and it could cost his or Sammy's life. So, no matter where he and his brother stayed he always remained ever vigilant. Sam was his responsibility to keep safe and watch over. Dean stretched out and stared at the blue ruffles above him circling the bed. He shook his head in disgust. _Maybe I could stomach this frilly crap better if I was with a chick, but my brother, damn!_ Dean's thoughts bounced inside his head. "I gotta take a leak," he announced out loud to himself. And, deciding he couldn't wait for Sam to finish up he tried the doorknob. His brother didn't even hear him come in. Dean shook his head reminding himself that he'd have to lecture Sam on sharpening his awareness, after all, in their kind of business if you drop your guard even for a minute someone could die or get hurt, and almost always did.

Dean absently grabbed for more covers finding only a small corner of sheet for his efforts. Dean cranked his eyes open and looked at the clock, it was 4:00 AM, and then he turned irritated eyes toward his sleeping brother. Sam was turned on his side with his back to his brother, and as predicted the kid had managed to pull most of the sheet, and the entire comforter to his side of the bed. And, Dean nodded with an annoying glance what was left for him to cover up with equated to a postage stamp. He reached over and pulled on the sheet first, and was greeted by a sleep heavy grunt, and Sam pulling them tightly against himself. "Dammit, Sammy," Dean grumbled under his breath. "It's colder than a witches ass in here, come on." He yanked again, and successfully gained full sheet coverage, but in response his younger brother pulled the comforter closer. Dean rolled his eyes in frustration. Finally, irritation won out, and Dean flicked Sam in the head with a finger.

"What the hell?" Sam slurred as he snapped awake.

"See," Dean pointed at the blanket. "I told you so." Dean looked proud of himself that he had been able to prove his kid brother wrong, and show him that he was indeed a blanket hog.

"What?" Sam grumbled.

"You're stealin' the blankets." Sam struggled up to his elbows and looked at the situation through sleep heavy lids, and unwrapped himself from the blue comforter pushing a chunk of it toward his big brother. Dean was looking too pleased with himself, and it grated against Sam.

"Here," he mumbled. "You know…" Sam mumbled as he turned back over to return to sleep, "nobody likes a wiseass."

Dean laid back down into his pillow and snorted. "Key word being wise," he reiterated.

"Whatever," came the sleepy reply, and then Sam was silent. Dean listened to his brother's breathing even out into sleep. He turned looking at the side of his brother's face, and smiled. _The kid's a pain in my ass, but I wouldn't trade him for anything_ , he rolled his eyes chastising himself for having a private chick flick moment. He was glad Sammy couldn't read minds like Missouri Mosley could, otherwise he'd never live this and half the other things that cross his mind down. His brow furrowed for a second at the thought of Sam acquiring a new ability to add to his _Shining_ thing, and pushed it out of his head. _No sense worrying about something that hasn't happened yet_. Dean pulled the blankets closer and drifted off.

Dean's internal clock went off and he woke with pale sunlight peeking through the curtains. The first thing he saw was a brown mop of hair obscuring his vision on the right side of his face. He moved his head slowly to the left and the movement merely resulted in said brown mop of hair settling on his shoulder. He stared at the ceiling torn between knocking his little brother off of him, or to try and slide out letting Sam sleep. He tried to move and the action caused Sam to curl toward his brother and the retreating warmth. Dean was able to glance down at his brother's face now, and couldn't help, but note how much younger his brother looked while sleeping. He flopped back down on his pillow again, and tried to come up with a plan. "That's it," he whispered to himself. "Sam?" No movement.

"Sammy? Come on move your ass over," Dean tried to sound irritated, but his tone lacked any real anger. Sam simply replied with huddling closer. "Get off of me," Dean spoke louder, and Sam opened his eyes, and realizing where he was he pulled himself away from his big brother quickly.

"Sorry," he mumbled sleepily and retreated to his side of the bed as quick as he could scoot. Dean didn't say anything as he got out of the bed.

"I'm takin' a shower," he said glancing at the clock. "We're hitting breakfast before we head out."

"Okay," Sam answered as he stared at the ceiling. Dean moved about the room for a couple of minutes and disappeared into their bathroom. As soon as the door closed with a click Sam closed his eyes in embarrassment. Dean was going to use this one against him for sure. It might not be today or next month, but this would come back to bite him in the ass. Dean Winchester was like a heat-seeking missile once he was locked on it was only a matter of time before … impact. He opened his eyes and listened to the water running in the shower, and his mind drifted to the disjointed, but familiar recurring dream that had visited his mind once again last night. The sound of the water shutting off snapped him back from delving any further into the dream, and he got up gathering his things to go into the bathroom when his brother finished.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimers: appear in chapter 1**

 **Reader reminder: This story takes place during season one sometime after the episode "Faith"**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

 **Three Hours outside Layton, New Jersey**

Sam fidgeted in his seat while he watched the passing scenery. Dean let out a long sigh before changing out a tape for another one. "Now, that I can listen to," Sam said smiling.

"Yeah, CCR is classic," Dean added. "I never took you for a CCR kinda guy, Sammy. I thought you only liked that whiny grunge crap, oh forgive me, I meant to say alternative."

"First of all, it's not whiny and it's not crap. I mean come on, man. Look at Nirvana or Pearl Jam. You can't tell me you think Nirvana is crap." Sam was appalled at the very idea.

"No, I didn't say that. I'm talkin' about that other crap I've heard you listen to. What's that one song?" Dean crinkled his brow and then his eyes lit up with the recalled title. "That one where the guy is screaming, _I hate everything about you_ , it's just noise." Sam rolled his eyes.

"It's by the group Three Days Grace, and it's not noise." Dean snorted a laugh.

"Three Days Grace, huh? That's what a person should require after enduring that screech fest." Dean commented with a sideways smirk directed at his brother. "Oh, and that other one I saw you with…" Dean struggled to remember the group name. "Oh, yeah, I got it now, Blink-182." He chuckled at the thought of the name. "Yet another fitting name, when you play them on your laptop, I want to 'blink' and have them shut the hell up," he complained.

"You're like an old man, Dean. Stuck in an era and you refuse to try anything new. I don't like everything you listen to, but I can at least admit some of it is good classic rock. But, with you it's like pulling teeth for you to admit you could like anything I do," Sam frowned.

"Hey, I agree music from groups like Nirvana and Pearl Jam are an exception to the crap rule, but the rest of it is a big steaming pile of noise" Dean relented.

Sam added, "the groups aren't all grunge or alternative. Look at the Black Eyed Peas or Sarah McLachlan, and Tori Amos." Sam let out a frustrated sigh.

Dean shot Sam a look of confused disbelief.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Chick music?" Dean's eyes grew wide with amusement. "Next you'll tell me you've went to a chick concert." Dean couldn't help, but notice that Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat suddenly, and cleared his throat quietly. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance at his brother. His face took on an incredulous expression. "Holy crap! You went to a chick concert," and he laughed so hard he had to remind himself he was driving and had to stay in his lane.

"Whatever," Sam grumbled. "This argument isn't going anywhere." But, Dean would not be dissuaded from this new tidbit of info on his kid brother.

"You did," Dean barked in laughter. "You're such a girl Sammy. Or should I start calling you Samantha?" Suddenly, Sam glared at his brother hard, and then there was flash of something so quick that passed across his expressive eyes that a less observant person would have missed it completely. However, Dean was not that kind of person, and something told him he had tread into a precarious mine field. "Sam?" He lowered his tone and made it gentle. His younger brother glanced at him, his eyes softer and somehow clouded with a distant memory. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam brushed off the sincerity of the question, and turned back to the passing scenery. Dean decided to let it drop for a while and then he'd see if his little brother would talk. He wasn't sure what he had stirred up, but he wanted to get it cleared up before they got to the Glendan family estate.

Sam's mind felt pulled back to another time in his life and warm memories of Jessica, and a weekend trip to the very kind of concert his big brother had just given him grief over. Jess had wanted to go, and Sam took her. It had been a fantastic weekend for the two of them, and the warm memory circled itself around him, and his mind drifted to another time away from the Impala, his brother, and hunting.

 _The April morning Palo Alto sun was showing its first soft glow of the day when Jessica kissed Sam awake. "Hey, Sweetie," her voice was soft. Sam stirred and opened his eyes smiling at Jess. "Good Morning," she cooed as she slid on top of him in the bed. He smiled. He loved the feel of her warm skin against his own. He could smell her skin, and it reminded of something familiar. Her scent made him feel safe, loved, but most of all content._

" _Time to get up all ready," he asked glancing at the clock._

" _Yep, I want to get to San Francisco by mid afternoon, so we can sight-see."_

" _Jess, hon, we've got the whole weekend. The concert's on Sunday, we've got all day today."_

" _Yeah, that's the point. I want us to have a whole day to see the city, and Sunday we'll maybe go to the beach or something. The concert isn't until 8:00." Sam smiled. He could never deny Jess anything if she really wanted something. "So, get a move on," she laughed as she rolled off of him._

" _Okay, but I gotta take a shower," he said getting out of bed. He disappeared into the bathroom leaving the door cracked. He poked his head out a minute later with a grin on his face. "Jess," his voice held the hint of an innuendo. "Want to join me?"_

" _I thought you'd never ask," she smiled and walked toward Sam._

 _The drive to San Francisco had been perfect, but they had always enjoyed car trips together. The weather was perfect, and Sam knew Jessica was looking forward to seeing Tori Amos. Maybe, the music was his first choice, but he did like some of it, mainly because it didn't seem prosaic, and had some depth. He had bought the tickets as a surprise, and Jess had screamed when Sam gave them to her one night when they had ordered in some food, and were watching movies. The calendar in the kitchen had immediately been highlighted on April 24, 2005 in Jess's pink neon highlighter, and she had written down: Tori Amos 8:00PM, San Francisco. He loved making her smile. She was his peace, his quiet space. They checked in at a quaint non-descript hotel not far from the concert hall. He was glad that the Davies Symphony Hall was a nice venue, and found himself actually looking forward to the concert._

 _Jessica had pulled Sam into a few boutiques to try on designer cloths that were way out of budget, but she just wanted to have some fun, and then they had found a park to walk through, and watched some kids running and playing. They had spent the day walking the city and riding cable cars, and it was a perfect day. They had a quiet dinner at a little corner place, but before returning to the hotel they walked the streets a little more, and decided they'd indulge in a dessert and some coffee, so Sam flagged town a taxi. They decided they couldn't come to the city without going to Ghirardelli Square on San Francisco Bay. "You know what they say about chocolate," Jess's voice was suggestive, and Sam's eyes glinted._

" _Uh-huh," he answered softly. "Care to test the theory out tonight?" Jessica smiled as a knowing soft laugh slipped from her lips. He loved her laugh it had to be one of his favorite sounds._

 _The night at the hotel had been perfect. Jessica looked so beautiful in her white lingerie as the moon outside their open balcony door silhouetted her body perfectly as she stood in the light, and Sam's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. When morning came Jessica as always woke Sam with soft kisses, first on each eyebrow, then his forehead. He would be smiling before she found the tip of his nose with her lips, and chuckle when she made contact. He reached up cupping her head gently letting her curly blonde locks slip through his fingers. She smelled like night blooming Jasmine. He drew her head down toward his mouth, and kissed her._

" _Morning," he spoke quietly. She smiled, and then with a mischievous grin her hands slipped to his sides, and she squeezed, and he squirmed under her tickling. She knew all of his spots. "Oh, you're in trouble now," he threatened through a smile._

" _Oh, really," she said coyly. They made love that morning and stayed in each other's arms for a couple hours listening to the outside world below their balcony. When evening came Jess was a bundle of energy with giddy anticipation to see Tori Amos in concert. The drive home to Palo Alto after the concert was long, but it seemed so short to its occupants. Jessica would reach over from the passenger seat of her car and stroked the side of Sam's face. "Thank you, Sam."_

" _Don't thank me. I'm glad you had fun." He glanced toward her and smiled before turning his eyes back to the road._

" _That's not what I'm thanking you for," she said quietly. She unclipped her seatbelt and leaned in kissing Sam's cheek, and returned to her seat." Sam laughed._

" _Thanking me for being such a good lover, huh? I knew I was irresistible," his voice laced with humor. Jess laughed as she clicked her seatbelt._

" _Well, you are that," she said matter of fact. "But," she paused for a second causing Sam to look at her intently._

" _What?" He questioned turning his eyes back to the road._

" _I love you." Sam turned his eyes meeting Jessica's._

" _Love you, too, Babe. I wake up next to you every morning and wonder how I got so damn lucky that you chose me." She smiled._

" _Dumb luck, I guess," she offered with a humorous laugh._

"Sammy?" Dean's voice slid into Sam's reverie, and began to pull him from his warm memories. He clung to vanishing images desperately, but they melted away from him, a candle in a microwave. "Sammy?"

"Huh?" Sam absently replied as he turned to look at his brother.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You looked like you were somewhere else," Dean stated keeping his tone light. Sam cast his eyes down as he shifted in his seat looking at the sweeping scenery. There was a moment of silence before he spoke quietly still keeping his eyes on the passing landscape.

"I was," his voice soft, wounded. Dean looked at his brother's tall frame hunched against the door, as if it was offering him some type of emotional support.

"Where?"

"Just a memory that's all," Sam was shutting down, and Dean wasn't going to let him. His kid brother carried too much on his shoulders. He carried guilt that wasn't his to carry, and he decided to walk into the minefield known as Sam Winchester.

"Of Jessica?" His voice was soft. Sam snapped his head toward Dean, and just as quickly turned it back to the passenger window. Dean could see his brother's glassy eyes, wet with unshed tears. He could see the tight jaw line, and thinned lips fighting against the emotions that one name held over his little brother. "Sorry, Sammy," Dean offered. "I don't know how you feel, but …" his voice drifted off. "I'm sorry I brought it up." There was a long moment of silence that stretched between the two brothers and, Dean was determined to not be the first to shatter the silence. It was Sam's move.

"We went to a concert," Sam began suddenly. "It was late April, a few months before she died. We stayed in San Francisco. Jess loved Tori Amos, so I surprised her with tickets. It was the last big road trip we had together before she died." Sam's voice drifted quiet again and they sat in silence.

"Sorry, Sammy," Dean didn't know what he could say, and he felt he was ill equipped for comforting his younger brother. Sam only nodded. He recognized that his big brother was trying his best to be there for him, and to offer some kind of sympathy and support, so he accepted it with a nod, and that was enough for Dean.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimers: are in chapter 1 along with story setting notes**

 **Reader Note: I want to thank everyone that has kept up with each new chapter, I appreciate it. Happy Reading, I hope.**

 **Chapter 14  
**

 **By Dawn Nyberg**

The landscape had become more scenic looking over the last forty minutes, thick with trees and signs mentioning the Appalachian Trail. Sam watched the water out the window, and tried to see how far the Delaware River stretched. "So, where's this lady live again?"

"Just outside the other side of Layton," Dean answered. "We should be there in another twenty minutes give or take." Dean reached inside his jacket pocket as he drove, and dialed Eileen Glendan's saved number.

"Hello Dean," Eileen's voice was pleasant and soft.

"That still takes me by surprise," Dean commented on the psychic's ability to know it was him on the phone when she picked up. He heard a distinct lilting laugh on the other end.

"Sorry, it's just a habit." Eileen replied. "I take it your nearby?"

"Yes, we should be there soon."

"I'll be waiting." Dean ended the brief conversation with the woman, and Sam looked at him.

"These directions you have written down say to look for a large wrought-iron gate," Sam commented idly. "This place sounds big."

"Yeah, I guess it's an old family estate and, she said the place is filled with spirits, but that she doesn't mind them," Dean grinned at his brother and could see Sam's look of surprise. "Yeah, I couldn't believe what I was hearing either, but the lady says she only wants the entity removed." Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"And, she said she knows Dad, right?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, and apparently they've kept in contact over the years."

"Did she say anything about the entity?"

"Not a lot," Dean took a breath. "I remember she said it was hostile. I guess she tried to get rid of it herself, and it dislocated her shoulder by throwing her into a wall."

"Hmm," Sam replied. "Guess we'll get a good run on this job."

"Yeah, looks that way, but, you never know. We may get this bitch cleaned out quick, I guess we'll see."

"Yeah."

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam replied looking at his brother.

"What stuff did you say we'd need for the entity?"

"Dad's journal mentioned sage and comfrey, but the recipe could change depending on what exactly we're dealing with. Dad's journal said this was a basic recipe for most entities, but that some modifications may be required."

"Like what?"

"Consecrated rounds containing the sage and comfrey," Sam paused trying to recall from memory what he had read. "Oh, and, adding holy water to the shotgun shells when adding in the sage comfrey, a drop or two is what Dad wrote." Sam sighed. "I guess we'll play it by ear. It's like any other kind of job."

"Yeah," Dean nodded and scanned the road for the Glendan estate's front gate. The Impala rumbled through the quiet scenery. The brother's were reminded of their trip that turned out to be a Wendigo hunt, and the back country feeling of those woods reminded them of the woods that banked each side of the car at this point. "Boonies, huh?"

"Yeah," Sam answered looking into the deep green woods that passed outside his window. "Hey, what's that?" Sam pointed at a small turn off and then spotted a tall black wrought-iron gate. Dean looked where his brother was pointing just a small click up the road on Sam's side of the road.

"That's it," Dean said as he slowed the car, and turned in. The drive way was a mixture of old cracked concrete that had become mostly ground gravel and powder over the many years. Dean could see where fresh gravel had been put down and evened out to provide a driving surface. It was late afternoon, and the sun had all ready begun to drop. Trees lined the long driveway leading up to the estate, and the air was heavy with moisture causing a slight mist to gather along the driveway's edge. Sam shifted his eyes to his brother.

"You sure we aren't headed to Dracula's castle or something. I keep waiting to hear the wolves howling in the distance or something." Dean chuckled, but it was an uneasy laugh. Suddenly, he had an uneasy feeling about this job, and began to worry that it might not be as simple as he and Sam thought it would be. He glanced at his brother trying to get a read off of him; after all, his brother was the psychic wonder in the family.

"You feel anything?" He asked suddenly starling Sam.

"Huh?"

"I said do you feel anything? You know… the willies?"

"I'm not a psychic radar Dean," Sam grumbled. "I just thought the grounds around this place were creepy, but that doesn't mean anything." The estate came into view just as the youngest Winchester finished speaking. "Uh…" Dean shifted his eyes away from his brother and couldn't believe the size of the place that loomed in the distance.

"Damn," Dean exhaled. "It is Dracula's castle." The brothers spotted two guesthouses not far from them and spotted an older woman and a middle-aged man standing outside. The woman waved at the approaching car, and she smiled warmly. "That must be her," Dean commented.

The Impala rolled to a stop in the spot Eileen Glendan had pointed to with a smile. Dean could see there was a second guesthouse that he assumed correctly that Eileen had set aside for himself and his brother. The Winchester brothers climbed out of the car, and approached Eileen and the unknown middle-aged man. "You must be John's first-born, Dean," she smiled and extended a hand to greet him. Sam hung back slightly.

"Hi," Dean replied with a smile and shifted his eyes toward the man moving forward to greet him, as well, and, Eileen introduced them.

"This is one of my sons, Martin. He's here for any help you may need, but he's here mainly to keep me company while my unwanted guest is removed. Martin isn't too keen on the whole ghost hunting aspect."

"Hi," and Dean shook his hand firmly. "Yeah, no worries," Dean assured. "This is mostly old hat to us. Sam and I got it covered."

"Thanks," Martin let out a sigh of relief.

"And," Eileen began as she skirted her glance around Dean to look at his taller, but younger brother. "You must be John's youngest, Sam."

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam reached out and took her offered hand. There was a silent exchange that seemed to happen between them, and Eileen resisted just for a brief moment letting the boy's hand slip from hers. Martin and Sam exchanged greetings.

"Well, boys," Eileen began. "Let's get you settled in the guesthouse you'll be using while you're here." Martin excused himself and disappeared into the other guesthouse. Eileen opened the door to where Dean and Sam would be staying and it was like a small two-story cottage. The furnishings were antique, but finely maintained. The atmosphere of the house was pleasant, and the colors soft and comforting. There was a batch of fresh cut flowers bright with spring hues. "There is a kitchen that I've taken the liberty of stocking with a few staples that I think two growing young men might need or want. But, I'll cook breakfast and the like, and you and Sam can join Martin and me for meals."

"You don't have to go to the trouble," Dean's tone apologetic, and then snorted a laugh. "And, as far as _still_ growing," Dean mused as he cast a glance at his little brother. "God, I hope not." Sam let out a much put upon sigh, and rolled his eyes at his brother. Eileen laughed into her hand quietly. She gave a knowing wink to Sam, and then shifted her eyes back to Dean.

"Oh, pish," Eileen scolded. "I love to cook, and your John's boys, after all."

Eileen had shown them around, and left them to get settled. They would get a tour of the main house before night came. The sun had continued to drop in the late afternoon sky, but there was still plenty of daylight left. They had climbed the narrow staircase to their rooms, and had each flanked off into their own rooms. Both rooms had one full size bed, and comfortable furniture. There was a rocking chair in Dean's room, but Sam's had a window seat that was big enough to lounge in and look out. Sam set his duffel down on the bureau, and then flopped back onto the bed. The smell of fresh linens wafted up around him, and he breathed the heavenly scent in. _Man, two bed and breakfasts, and a guesthouse_ , he mused inside his head. _A guy could get spoiled._ Sam was pulled from his internal reverie by his brother's voice.

"Hey, Sammy, get a move on," he called from the hallway. "I want to see the house."

"Comin'?"

Eileen Glendan knew as well as the Winchester men did that the house was quiet during the daylight hours. Dean and Sam followed the older woman into the front door of the large manor home. Sam couldn't help, but take in the front door's appearance as they crossed the threshold. It was a deep mahogany with ornate carvings lacing through it, and the old brass doorknocker was a lion's head the size of his fist. The door was obviously quite old, but had been well maintained over the many years it adorned this house. They entered into the marble floored foyer, and Dean glanced down noticing a starburst design in the floor. The colors in the design were gold and a deep, rich red outlined in an onyx black. "I see you noticed the floor my father designed."

"Your father designed this?" Dean commented looking at the design a little deeper.

"Yes, he brought in the best Italian marble layers and artists to create this foyer. I was only six when my father had the foyer redesigned."

"Six? You've been here a long time."

"This estate has been in the family for many generations. It was my grandfather's home before his death passing it onto my father and it was my grandfather's family home before that."

"A lot of history here," Dean commented. "No wonder this place is spook central." Eileen laughed lightly. Sam had been quiet since walking into the house. He could feel the energy of the house, and sense eyes on him and Eileen and Dean. The house may not be active right now, but it didn't matter he could still sense that they weren't alone. Eileen took them upstairs and walked them through various rooms. She had pointed out where she has felt the entity's presence most often. She pointed out where she had had her confrontation with the dark energy, and Dean swept the hall and rooms with the EMF, but it remained silent. Eileen walked through the large home, but had said she had never felt the entity in these areas, as it seemed to keep to the upstairs. She walked them down the stairs to show them to the library. Sam's eyes were drawn down the hallway from the library to a glass door with decorative wrought-iron leading into a room he could see through the glass door filled with sunlight coming from above, and cascading inside the room in light bands. There was something familiar about this door, and he found himself drawn to it, and he walked past the library leaving Dean and Eileen idly chatting as she spoke about the entity and the other spirits residing in the house. Sam heard her mentioning her theories about the dark force, but his mind was preoccupied with this door. _Why have I seen this before? I know I have, but where?_ His mind was looping the thought continuously until he turned the doorknob and walked into the room, and then with sickening clarity he knew. It was the room of his dream, the one plaguing him for days now. He stood transfixed in the center of this room taking it all in as reality washed over him like an ocean tide.

The ceiling was made of glass and he stood surrounded by large windows. The room was an atrium of sorts, and Sam let the memories of his dream replay in his head. He saw himself and his brother enter the room, and the entity materialized with its sights set on Dean and Sam could see himself push his brother out of the way as the dark entity passes through him. He could feel the cold envelop his body. The evil of this entity was like a heavy fog, and it filled Sam with its darkness taking his life force as it passed through him. Sam could feel his strength slip from him like sand through your fingers. He could see himself begin to collapse only to be caught by his brother, and then as the memory of the dream slips away he recalls the feeling of another presence nearby, and then its gone. Sam is brought from his recollections by the familiar voice of his brother, "Sammy?" He can hear Eileen and Dean in the hallway approaching the atrium. Sam continues to stare around the room until he hears the wrought-iron door creak open as Dean and Eileen enter. "Where the hell did you go?" Dean chastised Sam quietly under his breath, and then looked at Eileen sheepishly as he recalled his language. "Sorry," he offered with a slight smile of embarrassment.

"It's quite all right," Eileen replied. "I did raise three sons, and their father can swear like a sailor when he gets on a roll. You're a Puritan compared to my husband." Dean gave an impish grin.

"Earth to Sam," Dean encouraged as he could see his brother had completely zoned out and had not heard a single piece of what had just transpired between he and Eileen.

"Huh?" Sam asked distractedly as he looked to Dean.

"What are you doing in here?" Dean asked shaking his head in mild frustration at his younger brother.

"Just looking around," Sam answered shifting his eyes back to the spot he'd watched himself fall into his brother's arms.

"Sam?" Eileen reached out and touched his arm. She inhaled sharply, "Oh, my!" She responded out loud before she could stop herself. Dean turned concerned eyes from his brother to her.

"What? What is it?"

"Oh," Eileen tried to cover. "Nothing… nothing at all." Deans shifted his eyes back to his brother.

"So, space cadet," Dean began. "You want to pay attention now or are you going to wonder off again? You're worse than a kid in a toy store." Sam bristled noticeably at not only be reprimanded like a child by his big brother, but to have him do it in front of Mrs. Glendan.

"You don't have to be an ass," he hissed as he pushed past his brother and bulked out of the room. He had too much on his mind to deal with his brother's lord of all I survey attitude. _You're not the boss of me_ , he thought to himself as he stalked down the hallway heading for the front door. Dean shrugged at Eileen.

"Sorry about that. I apologize for Sam." Eileen gave a look to Dean that spoke volumes. The look conveyed she didn't think Sam needed to apologize. Dean relented. "Okay, I'll go talk to him." Eileen reached a gentle hand out and took hold of Dean's sleeve.

"Let me," she offered. He looked at her confused, but acquiesced to her request.

"All right, if you want to," he agreed.

"I do." She smiled and they both left together toward the foyer to leave. Eileen had a lot to talk to Sam about, and it had very little to do with what he and his brother had said to one another. She had seen what Sam had when she touched him, and knew what he was hiding from his brother. She was afraid for the young man, and she needed to talk to him.


End file.
